Spons' Household Manual A treasury of domestic receipts and a guide for home management (part 6 of 9)

Spons' Household Manual A treasury of domestic receipts and a guide for home management (part 6 of 9)

Moths.--Numerous opinions have been expressed from time to time as to the most effective means of preventing the ravages of the larva of the “clothes-moth.” The most practical may be summarised as follows. (a) When the number of garments or other fabrics is small an efficient plan is found to be to keep them exposed to the air and liable to constant disturbance, with occasional shaking and beating. (b) One writer finds it a very good plan to put winter things, such as curtains, furs, heavy shawls, dresses, extra blankets, &c., away in wine cases, papered inside and out with newspaper; when nailed down, every crack or crevice is pasted over. This should be done in April, before any moths are about; the clothes are then safe. Other articles which cannot well be packed away for the summer, such as dress-coats, are quite safe if folded in plenty of sound newspaper. (c) Another states that articles put away for 5 years in a warehouse were perfectly uninjured in all cases where they were completely wrapped in linen, while every part not thus protected was more or less destroyed by moth. (d) One experimenter placed 4 moths in the balance, and found that they weighed 2¾ gr. They were then placed in a watch-glass, and dried over the steam of boiling water. There remained ·830 gr., say 30 per cent., or, in other terms, if 100 lb. of the grubs were dried they would lose 70 lb. or 7 gal. of water (and this is exclusive of what the insect must have lost in perspiration and other animal functions). The remedy which suggested itself was, that if we could render our garments absolutely dry, even if the mother moth should deposit her eggs, they could not grow or live in the absolute absence of moisture; and that if we could place our garments for a short time, during the moth season, May and June, in a close chamber, heated by steam pipes to the boiling point, aided by a little chloride of calcium, on trays to absorb moisture, the necessary conditions would be met; and even if the mother moth had succeeded in depositing her eggs before the hot chamber process had been applied, it would still prove effective, as the eggs would be hard-boiled and rendered unproductive. Possibly if drying ovens were kept available at a small charge, they would find extensive employ, as the losses incurred by dealers in furs is immense; and in private families for the treatment of clothing, blankets, and other articles they would be of great value. (e) The use of a vacuum and hot gases has been under experiment by the Government of the United States. It is believed that a large cylinder of boiler iron may be filled with woollen goods, either cloth or made-up garments, in unbroken bales or boxes; the top screwed on air-tight; the air exhausted by an air-pump worked by the steam engine, and the vacuum filled after a sufficient time to kill all active developed moths and grubs, with air which has passed through a stove filled with ignited charcoal or anthracite coal. This atmosphere will contain no supporter of respiration; it consists of nitrogen, carbonic acid, and carbonic oxide, and some watery vapour, with a little sulphur and traces of other volatile impurities contained in the fuel. The carbonic oxide is a violent poison. The other gases named are all either inert, unable to support life, or positively noxious. They will penetrate under the pressure of 15 lb. to the sq. in. into every nook and cranny between the folds of the goods, and into every empty pore of the woollen fibres themselves. They can be introduced at such a temperature as may be determined to be best and sufficient. Experiments at Nottingham reported in the Journal of Applied Science show, if correctly performed, that woollen goods may be exposed for 3 hours to an atmosphere in a close vessel heated to 250°F. (121°C.) without injury, and that even 295°F. (146°C.) is not seriously injurious to the fibre, though it changes the colours of some goods. One difficulty in caring for great quantities of these goods is the labour and exposure incident to opening packages, taking out to handle separately each article, exposing it after brushing to the attacks of the moths, always ready for action at the only season when this overhauling is needed. (f) The larva of the clothes-moth will only attack and devour substances that immediately serve it for food, and will not gnaw through the most flimsy envelope, provided this is not edible. But still in these the most careful folding will fail to keep them out, as the tiny hatchlings will find their way through the seams; these should be pasted together, but as the insects are particularly fond of paste this should be poisoned either with a little corrosive sublimate or by triturating some camphor with it. Moths will never eat through brown paper. This must be of the right sort, i.e. made from old tarred ropes, and smelling of tar. Larvæ of clothes-moths, if they can get at nothing else, will feed on ordinary paper if kept in a damp place. The protection of the wrappers consists in their coarse tarry nature. (g) Dust the articles with alum dried to a cinder and powdered. (h) Mix 2 oz. snuff, 4 oz. cedar sawdust, 1 oz. black pepper, 1 oz. camphor, 1 dr. lupulin (hop flowers), and blow it into corners with a powder bellows. (i) Soak blotting-paper in a mixture of oil of camphor and spirits of turpentine, and lay it among the goods. (j) Prof. Riley says that the early days of June should herald vigorous and exterminating warfare against these subtle pests. Closets, wardrobes, all receptacles for clothing, should be emptied and laid open, their contents thoroughly exposed to light and air, and well brushed and shaken before being replaced. In old houses much infested with moths all cracks in floors, wainscots, shelves, or furniture, should be brushed over with spirits of turpentine. Camphor or tobacco should be placed among all garments, furs, plumes, &c., when laid aside for the summer. To secure cloth linings of carriages from the attacks of moths, sponge them on both sides with a solution of corrosive sublimate of mercury in alcohol, made just strong enough not to leave a white mark on a black feather. Moths may be killed by fumigating the article containing them with tobacco or sulphur, or by putting it, if practicable, into an oven heated to about 150° F. (k) Nothing is better than Mikado moth papers (Fleming, 101 Leadenhall St., E.C.), placed between folds of the articles to be protected, and occasionally renewed.

Poultry Lice.--(a) Damp the skin beneath the feathers and dust on powdered sulphur. (b) Scatter male persimon leaves on the floor of the house, or wash the house with a decoction of the leaves. (c) Thoroughly lime-white the house, adding sulphur to the lime.

Slugs and Snails.--Lay salt on the trails.

Wasps.--(a) Put pulverised commercial potassium cyanide, one or two tablespoonfuls, into the entrance of the nest without disturbing it or the insects; they enter never to return. (b) At noon, or soon after, when the insects are abroad in search of food, fumigate the hole with sulphur; dig out the comb and destroy everything in it; then place a wine bottle, half full of water, in the hole, leaving the mouth of the bottle within an inch of the surface of the surrounding earth; on taking it up next morning, you will find every one of that family safe in the trap. (c) Pour some tar into and around the nest and ignite it; take care to have the head and hands covered with gauze. (d) Spread arsenic and the dust of loaf sugar (1 to 20) on pieces of orange peel out of the reach of children. (e) Hang bottles containing treacle and water in the plum trees and other resorts, and examine daily.

Rats.--(a) Mix together 8 oz. strong cheese and 2 oz. powdered squills, and place in their haunts and runs. It acts immediately, and the rats die instantly; whereas most of the pastes, &c., allow the animals to retire into their holes, where their subsequent death and putrefaction may cause great inconvenience from effluvia. (b) Make a strong solution of copperas water, and paint the walls of the whole cellar, then pound up copperas, and scatter it along the sides of the walls and into every hole where it can be thrown. (c) In the runs and holes, lay a mixture of tar and broken glass. (d) Feed them liberally for several days on a smooth surface, then damp the floor and smear it with caustic potash; the rats, in running over it while feeding at the bait, get their feet besmeared with it, which causes a burning or corroding of the flesh. At the same time they lick their feet to relieve the pain, and are either so annoyed or poisoned that they leave the premises. (e) Scatter lime chloride in their haunts and holes. (f) Having caught one, tar him all over, or coat him with paste containing tincture of asafœtida, and turn him into the hole again.

Traps.--(g) Scald common gin traps and set them at the holes, covered with sawdust, avoiding touching the gins with the naked hand. (h) Feed the rats for 3 or 4 nights successively, leaving the traps (box traps) fixed open and baited with the following paste, so that they may go in and out and feed at their ease. If the rats are numerous and the premises extensive, take 4 lb. bread crumbs, 4 lb. flour, ½ pint treacle, 1 teaspoonful essence of anise, and ½ teaspoonful essence of musk; mix the whole well together, and bait the traps. Several traps should be so prepared. On the night the rats are to be taken, bait as usual, having the traps set for catching. (i) Set a steel trap in the run and cover it with a butter cloth. A fresh cloth must be used each time. (j) Fill a barrel about half full of water. Make the cover ½ in. smaller all round than the inside of the top of the barrel. Drive a nail or wire on each side of the cover exactly opposite each other, as a pivot, and fit in the barrel, so that a light weight will readily tip the cover. Put the bait on top, in a firm way, and place an empty barrel or box near by. (k) Mix 1 lb. oatmeal or flour, ½ oz. aniseed, 1 oz. cassia, 2 oz. white sugar, all finely powdered; feed with this mixture for 5 nights at least before you tilt up the trap, which must be concealed with straw scented with 4 drops oil of rhodium, 8 drops oil of cinnamon, and 8 drops oil of caraway. The paper on which the food is placed must also be scented with the same. When you cease to catch any at night, feed again, and when you suppose all to be caught in one place, remove the trap to another.

Snakes.--(a) In all probability, the acclimation or encouragement of certain animals which seek out snakes as their favourite food will do more towards effecting extermination than anything else. The mongoose enjoys a reputed pre-eminence in this respect which is quite undeserved--it need hardly be said that the “antipathy” which it is supposed to entertain toward its prey is a chimera born of an argument by analogy to human prejudices. The ichneumon hunts snakes to eat them; so do various foxes, tayras, rats, civets, grisons, weasels, genets, paradoxures, and other members of the Viverridæ and Mustelidæ. Still more addicted to an ophidian diet are pigs; it is said that Mauritius was cleared of venomous species by a number of wild hogs turned loose there. Toads, frogs, fish, lizards, newts, and even slow-worms devour young snakes; indeed, it is only their popularity as an article of food that serves to restrain their increase, for they are produced in broods of from twenty to a hundred or more. But their greatest enemies are birds. Peacocks, in particular, will desert the home where they are fed in a district abounding with snakes; not long ago, six pairs of pea fowl were employed to get rid of the vipers on an island off the west coast of Scotland, which they rendered almost uninhabitable by their abundance. Storks, pelicans, cassowaries, sunbitterns, cranes, falcons, and some vultures are also perpetually on the look-out for snakes, while the scientific title of the secretary bird, Serpentarius reptilivorus, sufficiently indicates its proclivities.

(b) A pitfall of some kind sunk below the level of the ground in an infested district, and furnished with water frogs, and a cage of rats, or some such small deer, might help to rid the neighbourhood.

(c) For every one that may be expected to find its way into a trap, however arranged, a dozen might certainly be taken, living or dead, by those who would make a business of pursuit; and for capturing them alive there is no safer or better appliance than the “twitch.” This consists of a simple loop of string passed through an eye at the end of a long crooked stick, and controlled by the hand. Directly a snake is seen it is hooked out into the open, if need be, away from all shelter, the noose dropped over its head and drawn up tight, and in that way it can be carried, powerless to do harm, or deposited in any receptacle which is ready for it. Collectors, too, would find this little apparatus far more practicable than the net or tongs. Places likely to form a resort for the deposition of eggs--situations which combine warmth, moisture, and protection, as a rule--should be diligently explored; and rocks or other fastnesses known to be their favourite breeding grounds should, if possible, be frequently disturbed by blasting. (A. Stradling, C.M.Z.S.)

=Removing Stoppers.=--It not unfrequently happens that when a stoppered bottle has remained undisturbed for a considerable time, the stopper becomes firmly fixed in the neck of the bottle, and cannot be moved by the hand in the ordinary way. The removal of a fixed stopper requires judgment and tact, in order to preserve the bottle unbroken. One or other of the following means may be resorted to:--(a) Place the bottle firmly on a table, and hold it with the left hand. Then apply the right hand to the stopper, and pull it forcibly on one side, using the thumb as a fulcrum at the exterior of the neck of the bottle. If the stopper moves, the motion will be indicated by a ticking kind of noise; and the stopper can then be withdrawn without further trouble. This plan should be tried at various parts, observing to pull the stopper towards the operator, and not away from him. (b) By tapping the stopper on alternate sides with the handle of a hammer, or with a piece of wood, it can frequently be loosened. (c) Dip one end of a cloth in boiling water, and then wrap it round the neck of the bottle; the heat causes the neck to expand which allows the stopper more room, whereby it can often be removed with ease. (d) Or the flame of a spirit lamp may be applied to the neck of the bottle with the same effect. But in both cases the operation must be performed quickly, in order that the heat may not get at the stopper and expand it, for if such is the case, it remains as firmly fixed as before. (e) Pass a piece of strong twine round the neck of the bottle and fix one end of the string to a hook; the neck will be heated by the friction occasioned by drawing the bottle rapidly backwards and forwards, the bottle being held in one hand, and one end of the string in the other. The heat expands the neck as before described. (f) Stoppers are sometimes fixed by the coagulating or crystallisation of substances between the inside neck of the bottle and the stopper. The application of oil, or water, or muriatic acid, to the top of the bottle, will often dissolve away so much of the hard matter as to render the removal of the stopper easy. (g) When the fixed stopper of a glass bottle resists all management--such as warming the neck with a cloth wet with warm water, by tapping, and by the wrench, or by all these in combination--there is another means which will frequently succeed. Let the bottle be inverted, so as to stand on the stopper in a vessel of water so filled that the water reaches up to the shoulder of the bottle, but not to the label. Two or three nights of this treatment may be required sometimes before the stopper will yield. (h) Another method is to use a stopper extractor. This can easily be made out of a block of wood 3 in. square and 2 in. thick, by cutting a hole through its centre large enough to receive the head of the stopper. The use of the above is preferable to pulling out two drawers, sticking the head of the stopper between them, and twisting the bottle round. To apply the extractor, it is placed over the stopper, and grasped firmly in one hand, while the neck of the bottle is held by the other. A gentle, but firm and steady twisting motion is then used, care being taken to keep both hands moving in the same plane, but in opposite directions. If the pressure be applied too vigorously or spasmodically, or if the lines of the direction of the opposite forces be not quite parallel, there is a danger of wrenching off the head of the stopper or breaking the neck of the bottle.

=Housekeeping.=--Volumes might be written on this subject, with column after column of figures to illustrate exactly how much of the annual income should be expended on each item; but when done, the labour would be practically fruitless, for the simple reason that each household has its own special wants. The skill and knowledge of the housewife are constantly devoted to the solution of the question how to supply the needs of the house. No brief summary of hints or information can help her. Every topic discussed in this volume has a bearing on the subject and must be studied. A few words of advice may be offered:--(1) Keep account of every penny received and spent. (2) Pay cash. (3) Study quality before price: cheap things are seldom economical. (4) Avoid both extravagance and waste. (5) Trust nothing to the servants. (6) Consult the index of this volume whenever you are in doubt.

=Marketing.=--The following observations condensed from two series of articles in that inestimable journal The Queen, will indicate what is in season during each month of the year; they will also contain suggestions as to the best mode of marketing and the signs and symptoms by which the quality of foods may be judged. Obviously remarks on the latter heads when once made will not need repetition.

January.

Meat.--Of meats, beef and mutton are of course in season all the year round; pork only in the cold weather. Veal can be had at any time, but it is cheaper in late spring and summer; and even lamb as an article of luxury can be bought as early in the year as this. Doe venison can be bought this month. The greatest difficulty a young housekeeper has to encounter is that of going to choose meat at the butcher’s. No rules without experience in applying them are likely to be of great value. Good beef should be red, with a purplish hue where it has been lately cut. If it is very brilliant scarlet or very pale, it is not good. The fat should be opaque, not transparent, and should be abundant on the ribs and under the sirloin; there should be plenty of white or yellowish suet inside the animal, and even on the lean joints there should be specks of fat mixed up with the meat. It should not waste much in cooking, though this has to do with the stove as well as the meat, and it should not be watery--lying, for example, in a pool of moisture on the block. All this may have to do with the wholesomeness of the meat, as these are the indications to show that the animal was in good health when it was killed, and that it was not “knocked on the head to save its life.” Even for those who do not like any fat with meat, a lean joint should be ordered, not a joint that would be fat on a healthy animal. This does not apply to the preposterously fat beasts killed about Christmas time, that are scarcely in a state of health from repletion, and the meat is too rich to be very wholesome, and far too fat to be economical. The yellow colour of the fat in Christmas beef is caused by feeding on oilcake instead of green food. Then, as regards the tenderness of meat, it should be fine grained, and should not have thick strips of sinew or gristle running through it. All meat has some in some parts, of course; for instance, in the coarse end of the ribs (i.e. the ribs nearest the tail) there is a strip of gristle about 1½ in. under the skin. It is there always, and is very tough and prominent in old meat. Butchers often cut it out, and it should be cut out before cooking; but it is better still to insist on having the first cut of the ribs (i.e. the shoulder end). All these indications are, it may be easily seen, comparative rather than absolute, and an inexperienced housewife walking into a butcher’s shop will be puzzled to know exactly how red, what tinge of purple, what proportion of fat, and what thickness of gristle she is to be prepared to expect. It is for each woman to decide whether she will choose her own meat or leave it to the butcher’s choosing. At any rate, the butcher will do his part of the bargain better if he clearly understands that his customer knows good meat from second rate, and will not overlook shortcomings in quality or weight. The meat should be weighed frequently, if not invariably, and the butcher should not be allowed to send more than is ordered, or less than he charges for. Comparatively few butchers kill their own meat. They buy at the dead-meat markets such parts of such animals as they have the best sale for. A first-class butcher in a wealthy neighbourhood, only buys the best meat and the prime joints; but a butcher in a poor neighbourhood, with a low-class trade, finds a ready sale for coarser inferior meat, and in some town slums it seems as though every animal had at least 6 heads and a corresponding number of internal arrangements. The coarse meat may be perfectly wholesome; it would be in a respectable shop; but, being coarse or tough, it commands a much less price in the wholesale market, the sales at which, and the ruling prices, are quoted constantly in the daily papers. The price given is at per stone of 8 lb. Retail buyers can often make an excellent bargain in the meat markets, either by arranging with a salesman to have a certain quantity delivered once or twice a week, or by going to the market themselves. On a Saturday night, or on any night in bad keeping weather, meat of all kinds can often be bought at much less than its usual price. Against this has to be set the trouble, the value of the time, the railway fare, and the possibility of an inexperienced person being taken in.

Beef is no doubt the cheapest meat to buy. It is most satisfying, and there is least bone. The prime joints of beef, and the leg and loin of mutton are usually about the same price, and in these there is not much difference; but the cheaper joints of mutton are very bony, while the cheaper joints o£ beef can be quite solid meat with no bone at all. These solid pieces of beef are what economical people should buy, instead of ribs and sirloins, and rump, for every day household use. They are far less fat than the more expensive joints, and therefore they waste less in cutting at table as well as in cooking. Ribs of beef cut to greater advantage for a large party if the bone is taken out and the meat rolled. The cheaper joints are the thick flank, “leg of mutton piece” (part of the shoulder), the shin, clod, and sticking piece. Of these the last three are only fit for stewing or braising, as the meat is tough, though it is wholesome and nourishing. It is very suitable for economical pies and puddings, but needs separate stewing first. Of mutton the leg is most economical, though the shoulder is generally lower in price. Breasts of mutton are sometimes sold at a very low price, and may then be cheap for stewing or braising. On the whole, the fillet is probably the most economical joint of roasting veal; the breast is better fitted for stewing, but it should be considerably lower in price than the leaner and less bony joints.

Fish.--Cod is now at its cheapest; soles, more or less in season all the year; lemon soles, which are rather less round in shape, less firm in texture, and about half the price of the black soles; haddocks, skate, conger, hake, herrings, plaice, ling, all of which are among the cheapest of fish; whiting, halibut, oysters, lobsters, crabs, shrimps; with shell-fish, such as winkles, whelks, and mussels, all are in season. Turbot, smelts, brill, flounders, and sea bream, red and grey mullet, are also to be recommended. Rhine salmon puts in an appearance this month, and, taken in conjunction with early cucumber, is delicious in flavour if extravagant in cost.

Game and Poultry.--Turkey is never better than at this season; but we may recommend our readers, if they wish to taste turkey in perfection, to eschew the larger specimens, and pin their faith on a hen turkey of 7-9 lb. in weight. Among birds eaten with the trail, the golden plover is perhaps one of the best when skilfully dressed, either as a roast or en salmis. Larks, excellent either roasted, en caisses, or as an adjunct to rump-steak pudding, are also abundant; while from America are imported the savoury pinnated grouse and succulent canvas-back duck--not to be eaten except with currant jelly and celery salad. Grouse went out in December, but there remain fowls, chickens, geese, pheasants, partridges, wild ducks, hares, rabbits, capercailzies, snipe, and woodcock.

Vegetables.--Broccoli, cabbage, savoys, spinach, Scotch kale, and sprouts for green; the green part of leeks is also useful as a garnish. Celery, parsnips, Jerusalem artichokes, and turnips for white vegetables. Lettuce, endive, beetroot, cresses, and forced cucumbers for salad. Potatoes can be bought at 50_s._ to 60_s._ a ton, according to size and quality. There is no economy in buying very small potatoes, as even at a low price, they are dear in the long run. Small consumers will find it more economical to buy by the sack of 168 lb. or the bushel of 56 lb. They should be kept in the dark and covered so that frost cannot reach them. Every week until new potatoes come in, the old ones grow dearer, and it is more difficult to get them good. A rough skin is said to indicate a mealy potato, and a smooth skin a waxy one; but that is not a sure guide, and the best way is to boil a sample and watch the result. There are few potatoes that cannot be made good by appropriate cooking, but some are good anyhow. Salsify--better known and appreciated in France and in America than in this country--an excellent vegetable, susceptible of varied treatment at the hands of a skilful cook--is also to be obtained.

Fruit.--Not now very plentiful. American apples, by the lb. or barrel, can be had in plenty, but they are not cheap. Apple chips can be used for all cooking purposes where fresh apples are employed, and are no doubt the cheapest substitute for fresh fruit. Medlars, pears, and hothouse grapes are the only home-grown fruits. American grapes, sent over in barrels of sawdust, and oranges are so familiar that we almost forget they are foreign. This is pre-eminently the season for dried and crystallised fruits of all kinds. Old raisins (which can, of course, be bought at a much cheaper rate than any new crop) are better than new for cake and pudding making, as the skins are less tough, and large cake bakers commonly buy their year’s stock late in the season.

February.

Meat.--Beef, mutton, pork, and in a lesser degree veal are all in season, and lamb begins to appear frequently on our tables; but neither lamb nor veal has yet attained its highest flavour.

Fish.--Turbot and brill are still seasonable, and are much alike, though turbot is considered the better, and is the dearer of the two. The flesh should have a yellowish tinge, and these, like all other flat fish, should be preferred when they are thick in proportion to their size. Turbot keeps well for a few days, and should be hung up by its tail, not laid flat. Other fish are still in season that were in the markets last month. The lists of the London fish markets give the following names: Soles, plaice, sturgeon, eels, conger, skate, haddocks, sprats, halibut, herrings, whiting, mackerel, hake, roker, coal fish, smelts. As much fish is caught and brought to London that should be left in the sea, it does not follow that all the prices quoted are of fish in full season. There are names in the list quite unfamiliar to some readers, but there is not one that does not belong to a fish that, good of its kind and well cooked, is fit to set before any one. We often should fare better and save money if we lengthened our list. Codfish, haddock, plaice, flounders, and the ever-welcome sole are in fine condition, but herrings and mackerel are not to be recommended. Smelts, whitings, and red mullet are still in season. Of late years the conger-eel has taken up a position formerly denied to him, and although in bad odour, on account of his cheapness, he is not a bad fish when carefully dressed, and, above all things, makes an excellent soup. Shell-fish are scarce, dear, and--with the exception of oysters--are not so good as later in the season. Salmon is never finer than during this month.

Game and Poultry.--Game is on the wane. Grouse, pheasant, and partridge are over, and game imported from the forests of Norway and the prairies of Illinois but inadequately fills the place of our home-grown birds. In default of these come swimming and wading fowl, woodcock, snipe, and golden plover. Wild duck holds its own, and always presents an appetising morsel. Of all Lenten fowl, the curlew holds the chiefest place, and affords an admirable dish either as a roast or en salmis. The godwit is also an excellent bird. Larks are to be had, and, in default of ortolans, are agreeable if diminutive. Hares are still to the fore, and rabbit is to be obtained, and may be roasted, smothered in onions, or best of all exhibited in a curry.

Barndoor poultry waxes scarce and dear. Turkeys no longer abound as at Christmas, and guinea-fowl are found the best substitute. Spring chickens present but a diminutive appearance, while geese and ducks are becoming rare.

Vegetables.--Seakale and rhubarb can be added to the list of vegetables, but they are still costly, though before the end of the month forced rhubarb will be common.

Fruit.--Oranges are now at the lowest prices, and very plentiful. It is a time of year when bottled and tinned fruits are in great request, both for dessert and for cooking.

Apples, with the exception of the reinette and other varieties of russets, are becoming scarce. France and America, however, send us lady-apples, and a few choice pippens, such as the famous Newtown variety.

Breadstuffs.--Good flour should have a very slight yellow tinge, should not feel gritty between the fingers, and it should be adherent, so that a handful pressed together retain its shape. There should be no mouldy smell nor acid taste. The best test of all is to bake a loaf of bread, always granted that the character of the flour is not to be held liable for shortcomings of cook or yeast. The very fine and white pastry flour makes the best-looking and also delicious-tasting bread, and is much to be preferred for puff paste and rolls; but for family use seconds flour and seconds bread is better, for not only is it cheaper, but it is more nourishing, because it contains less starch and a larger proportion of bone and flesh forming material. Rice is added in making bread, sometimes because it is cheaper than flour, at other times because it retains water. Bread made so is heavier and of closer texture. Potatoes are used only in small quantity, to assist the action of the yeast. Alum enables flour to be used that without it could not make passable bread.

As it cools, bread begins to lose weight. This may be stopped by throwing a thick cloth over the loaves, but the crust thereby becomes heavy. No private person would need to do this, but as household bread is sold by weight, and every customer may demand a full 4 lb. to each quartern, or 2 lb. to an ordinary loaf, it is sometimes in the baker’s interest to do so. When bread is left at the house it is not customary to weigh it, but the humbler housekeepers who fetch their bread take care to have a slice thrown in as makeweight if the scale does not turn at 2 lb. or 4 lb. Fancy bread is never sold by weight.

It is customary to allow about 1 lb. baker’s bread a day for each person. Two people would eat a half-quartern loaf between them. Of course, individual appetites vary, and if there is great abundance of other food, the bread bill may be diminished; but (though, of course, there should be no idea of stinting the supply) 1 lb. a day is an ample allowance, and if more is consumed there is probably some waste going on, new loaves being begun before the old are finished, and pieces of bread thrown into the dustbin or hog-tub. This is as unnecessary as it is undesirable. Half a stale loaf can be made fresh by warming it through in the oven. Slices of bread should not be cut till they are needed; but if they are cut, they can be made into puddings or fritters for the nursery tea or kitchen supper, much more popular and wholesome, and no more costly, than the monotonous bread and butter and bread and cheese. Smaller pieces can be dried and pounded for cutlets or fish; soaked in cold water or milk, they come in for rissoles and stuffing.

March.

Meat.--Pork is not seasonable in hot weather, and is not often seen on table after this month. Beef, mutton, and veal are obtainable as usual, and lamb can also be had, though it will be dear for a few weeks yet.

Fish.--Slightly salted and smoked haddocks are consumed in enormous quantities in London. Fresh or smoked, they are always a low-priced fish. There is not much to be remembered in choosing such fish, except that they should be large and thick; the smaller ones are all bone and skin. They should be scalded to draw out the salt and to make them soft, a preliminary to cooking that is often forgotten.

Perhaps nothing varies in quality and price so much as fish. It must be in season, as it is always tasteless and insipid, sometimes actually unwholesome, at other times. Fish out of season should not be bought, however cheap it seems to be. It is always in best condition just before spawning, when it is filled with roe. Afterwards it loses the store of fat, and becomes poor and watery. It must be fresh, and this is not easy of detection to the inexperienced. The smell is a guide; but fish kept on ice may not smell disagreeably, yet it may have been a long time out of the water, and as soon as it is taken from the ice it will begin to decompose, and in a few hours of warm weather will be quite uneatable. It should be bright and red about the gills and eyes, not dull and brown; but this also is an appearance that the fishmongers know how to give the fish long after nature has taken it away. It should not have been knocked about or bruised; the scales should be all there. A large fish is usually to be preferred to a small one, provided it be not old and coarse fleshed, and consequently tough, for the small contain a greater proportion of bone. The flesh should, with some few exceptions, have a bluish tinge when freshly cut. It should be firm, though not tough; but the firmness has something to do with good cookery. Salt enough to make the water like weak brine, or a little vinegar, tends to make the flesh of boiled fish firm.

In choosing any shell-fish, the great thing to be considered is the weight in proportion to size. The heavier they are the better; the lighter fish are apt to be watery. Of lobsters choose those with broadest tails. The very large lobsters, hoary with white incrustations on the shell, are often old and tough.

Cod is a winter fish, flourishing best in the coldest waters. Whitebait is brought into town each afternoon for the late dinners of fashionable London, as it loses its freshness even in a few hours, especially when the warm weather of June and July comes. Smelts when fresh are brown on the back and silvery-looking. They are not so plentiful now as in late autumn.

Monday is a dangerous day to go marketing, because perishable goods may have been kept from the Saturday before. For the same reason, on Saturday night fish may often be bought very cheap, because, though it is perfectly good at the time, it will not keep for 36 hours.

All oily fish must be perfectly fresh, and they do not generally keep long or well. Salmon trout, for instance, is said never to be eaten in perfection except by the fisherman, and many cases of poisoning with mackerel have been sufficiently severe to be noticed in the papers, while mild cases of discomfort due to that cause are known to every one. Mackerel lives but a very little time after it is taken out of the water. There are two mackerel fisheries, one in the spring and one in the autumn, and the fish are sometimes sold even in London at a very low price; in the fishing villages a score or more can be bought for a shilling. Nothing like this price is to be met with in town, but yet they are among the cheapest foods as soon as the fishing boats are in full work; and tons will be sold this month and next from barrows in the streets, often excellent fish, though they cost about a quarter of what we pay at the fishmonger’s. It should be bright and silvery looking, not bruised about the head.

Of salmon, it is usual to allow about ½ lb. for each person, if a handsome piece is wanted for boiling; less will do if a large party is to be provided for, but more is needed for a dinner of 2 or 3 persons. The middle of the fish costs more than the head and shoulders, and the tail less than either. Salmon goes farther than most kinds of fish, but only very seldom is it a cheap food. A curdy appearance between the flakes generally denotes a good fish. Turbot and the smaller species of the same genus are in prime condition. Brill is an admirable fish when chicken-turbot is not to be had. Soles are firm and white as ever. Salmon, now in splendid condition, has to endure the rivalry of the dainty trout. Towards the end of the present month shad begin to ascend the Severn and some of the rivers of France. This delicate fish is never better than when simply grilled. Eels are now in season, and may be served either as a stew, a spatchcock, or à la tartare.

Game and Poultry.--Goslings are to be found, and in the opinion of many are much more agreeable in their youthful beauty than in the mature and adipose condition of stubble-fed geese. Guinea-fowl are always good, great and small, and perhaps are best when nipped in the bud as mere eggs--a delicious morsel to a delicate palate.

Very little game is to be had, and that little consists, besides hares, of aquatic birds, woodcock, snipe, plover, widgeon, and teal, together with curlew.

Vegetables.--The vegetable market shows signs of spring. Forced cucumbers appear to keep salmon company. Spring salads take the place of winter. Artichokes from France are tolerably plentiful, and that excellent vegetable--sorrel, which forms such an agreeable addition to shad or to a fricandeau, is to be seen in our markets, although at present it finds but little favour in the sight of English cooks. Covent Garden imports sweet potatoes for the benefit of American customers, and custard-apples from the island of Madeira. New potatoes, carrots, turnips and parsnips are more abundant than in the preceding month. Portugal sends green peas, and imported asparagus becomes less costly.

Fruit.--We should be badly off for fruit if it were not for oranges, which are actually cheaper than English apples in the apple season. Now is the time to make marmalade, as Seville oranges are plentiful. If oranges or any other fresh fruit have to be kept, they should be in the dark, and laid on wood, not on a plate or dish. It is better to put them in rows, and not heap them up. Grapes are still in the market, flanked by apples and pears of the most durable kinds, and early strawberries.

April.

Meat.--Grass lamb is the meat of the season.

Fish.--Whitebait is a choice natural product. It is supposed that this delicious fish can only be obtained, either “plain,” “devilled black,” or “devilled red,” in true perfection at those excellent hostelries which by its means have attained celebrity. No greater mistake exists. It is within the power of every gentleman to have as good whitebait at his own table as he can obtain elsewhere. Fresh bait, ample flouring, and boiling--absolutely boiling--lard will solve the problem in the most satisfactory manner.

Salmon is getting cheaper--if not better--and plump chicken-turbot is still in. The gigantic but rather coarse halibut remains, with plaice and flounder. Dainty brook-trout and larger specimens of the same genus, from the Irish lakes, present an agreeable spectacle; while the gurnet is in great force. Whiting is yet in season, but mackerel and herring are better later on. Oysters take their leave.

Game and Poultry.--Spring chickens, ducklings, goslings, and guinea-fowl but feebly replace the juicy birds of the autumn and winter months.

Vegetables.--Among the prime vegetables of the month asparagus holds the chiefest place, and is always delicious. To those who have not yet tasted it we may recommend cold asparagus, with plain salad-dressing, as a breakfast dish without a peer. Green peas, early French beans, seakale, sorrel, spinach, succulent mushrooms, early carrots, and baby turnips are plentiful.

Fruit.--Pines, melons, oranges, hothouse grapes, peaches, nectarines and strawberries, and a few durable apples and pears apart--fruit is scarce; but delicious tarts can be made of green peaches and apricots.

May.

Meat.--Veal and lamb are in full season, and sweetbreads are in great request. As the supply is always limited, butchers not seldom try to pass off bullock’s sweetbread--i.e. the pancreatic gland--on their customers. True sweetbread is a gland in the neck of the young animal only. This should not be tolerated, as bullock’s sweetbread is coarse-flavoured and hard, and needs long and careful washing and cooking before it comes to table. It can, however, be made very palatable with care, and is occasionally worth buying as a change, under its rightful name, and at a legitimate price. Brains parboiled in salt and water to harden them are another good substitute for sweetbreads, and offer one more change from the perpetual joint and fowls that are on every table.

Game and Poultry.--A young fowl has large feet, knees, and neck in proportion to its size, and its thighs look white or pinkish. An old one has thin, scraggy legs and purplish tinge on its thighs; the scales look hard and horny, and often there are long hairs on the skin. If the beak is on, it should be soft, and so with the breast bone, which is frequently broken by the poulterer to give the bird a plump appearance. The length and size of the claws is another indication of age; the size is little or no guide, as that depends on the variety and the feeding. The small-boned, short-legged varieties are generally said to be the best. A very fat bird is to be avoided, for it wastes much in cooking, and even what remains of the fat cannot be eaten. Birds that are kept in the dark and crammed previous to killing become very fat, but the flesh loses flavour and firmness, and they are far inferior to barndoor fowls. Cleanliness is also essential to the production of a well-flavoured fowl; the same may be said of ducks, now as ducklings to be eaten with the earliest green peas. Full-grown ducks are better in late summer or autumn. Their age can be judged from the appearance of the feet, and by the pliability of the bill. The down that covers them may be an indication of youth, but it may also be put on by the poulterer with a sprinkling of gum.

Chickens, turkey poults, ducklings, goslings, and guinea-fowl dispute supremacy, but very little is to be said for any of them. The pigeon is possibly the best bird procurable during May. Plover’s egg, always delicious, even when eaten under difficulties, seems to gain in beauty when presented in the form of an aspic.

Fish.--May is the true mackerel month. The herring too puts in an appearance during the month of May, and is a thoroughly delicate fish. The only valid accusation against the herring is on account of his innumerable bones, but this is not the true reason of his being voted unfashionable. Unfortunately, the herring is too cheap, and, in consequence of this defect, is in the habit of haunting vulgar localities, and thus excluding himself from the refined society that he is so well qualified to exhilarate.

Whiting and smelts still appear, but are practically superseded by whitebait. The Salmonidæ are in grand condition. Salmon, salmon trout, lake and brook trout prevail on our dinner-tables; but the most delicate member of the entire family is rarely seen. Either from scarcity, the distance of the lakes from the metropolis, or from some other cause, the beautiful silvery char seldom reaches London. Small as he is, he has all the richness of the salar, and possesses a delicacy all his own. Turbot now ceases, and codfish has retired. Brill, gurnet, soles, plaice, and flounders are in season. Oysters having departed, other shell-fish improve much in quality. Lobsters and crabs now lose much of the dryness that is so conspicuous a fault with them during the winter months.

Vegetables.--Vegetables are now plentiful and cheap. In warm seasons that are yet sufficiently damp they grow quickly, and the fibre is less woody and hard than that of vegetables grown in cold or dry weather. With the warm weather comes the difficulty of transport, but it is not yet so great as in July and August, when the plants are full of sap and ferment quickly under a hot sun. Gardeners have a habit of keeping vegetables for a few hours in a hot bed or greenhouse before sending them to the kitchen. They have some idea that it improves the quality--an idea that is wholly erroneous, and should be combated. Potatoes are often laid in the sun for a few hours to dry, but they should never be allowed to lie long enough for fermentation to set in. All withered vegetables should have the stalks freshly cut, and the ends should then be put in a bowl of water, just as withered flowers would be treated. Through the stalks they suck up water enough to fill their shrunken cells, and make them green and stiff once more, but to plunge the entire plant under water is a mistake, and after a few hours of such treatment the water is often perceptibly warm, and the leaves bruised and decaying. Of course this does not apply to washing vegetables and salads, which cannot be too thorough and complete, especially of the vegetables that many housekeepers buy off barrows in the streets.

Asparagus is now in great perfection, and green peas wait upon the insipid duckling. Unless young, quickly grown, freshly gathered, and properly cooked, green peas are apt to be a failure, and when four important conditions have to be fulfilled the chances are naturally against success. Summer cabbages, cauliflowers, spinach, young carrots, turnips, and potatoes are all to the fore; nor do salads fail to keep pace with these, as cabbage, lettuce, summer endive, and corn-salad are to be had in profusion.

Fruit.--The weak point of May is fruit, as almost the only good fruit that can be obtained at a reasonable price is the orange. Strawberries are to be bought for money, but in this instance the open-air-grown fruit is far preferable to the productions of the hothouse.

June.

Meat.--Lamb is now in fine condition, and, besides the ever-welcome fore-quarter, supplies admirable material for entrées of various kinds. Lamb’s head, either baked and served upon a mince or stewed with green peas, will always find legions of admirers.

On the subject of veal mankind is by no means so unanimous as on that of lamb, and in this country especially veal is generally denounced as unwholesome. Although it is unfortunately the custom to allow calves to grow unreasonably large before the day of sacrifice, and to compensate the loss of whiteness by phlebotomy, thereby losing much of the tenderness and succulence of the meat, veal is after all one of the most valuable materials for the production of dainty dishes. Calf’s head is susceptible of various treatment and the ears are esteemed choice morsels. Tongue, liver, sweetbread and feet have their several admirers. Breast of veal, either stuffed or curried, is a good dish, and so is the fricandeau well larded and served with mushrooms, peas, spinach, or--best of all--with sorrel. To the various forms of paupiettes, escalopes and cutlets there is verily no end, and to sum up its qualifications, veal makes an excellent roast. This latter remark, however, applies only to the loin. The huge mass called in English fillet of veal is one of the most tasteless and barbarous of joints.

Buck venison is in season from the middle of this month until September. It is one of those delicacies of the table that is not very often bought in the open market, and no one looks a gift horse in the mouth. Lean venison is scarcely worth eating, and is often sold at a very small price; the fat should be thick and abundant, clear and bright looking; the hoof smooth and close. In cool weather a haunch may hang for a fortnight, and it should be kept perfectly dry by wiping with cloths. Tastes, however, differ greatly as to the length of time that venison should be hung, and indeed “high” meat or game is actually in a state of decomposition, and it has been known to produce symptoms of poisoning in persons unaccustomed to its use. It begins first to decompose near the bone, and its state can best be ascertained by running a skewer into the middle of the joint.

Fish.--Lobster, whiting, trout, eels, and salmon, continue in season. The tiny Thames flounder is exceedingly sweet in flavour, and although lacking the firmness of the sole has peculiar merit of its own, either accommodated in sootje, or fried in perfect style.

Game and Poultry.--Goslings and half-grown geese--called in many country places green geese--are in season from now to September. The 29th of that month is a fixed date when every one knows that geese are in season to continue so until early spring. Ducks have no such date in their history; and, beginning in April or May as ducklings at a high price, they grow larger and cheaper all through the summer until the decline and disappearance of green peas. The age of both these birds may be guessed from the toughness of pinion, beak, and feet; from the deep orange or red colour of the feet of an old goose, those of a young bird being yellow; from the downy appearance of the feathers, and the size of the quills. A duck or goose, especially if not very young, is better for hanging a day or two, but it must not be in the least high, as the abundant fat would be rank. Rabbits, that is wild rabbits, are out of season. A few are seen in the shops, for they are not protected by game laws, but careful housekeepers know better than to buy them. Tame rabbits are fattened for market all the year round, though it is in winter that they are imported and sold in largest quantities.

Chickens are larger, and turkey poults assume respectable dimensions; but the great event of the present month is the advent of quail, wheatear, and ortolan. These delicious birds are doubly welcome at the present moment, as they afford inestimable relief from the insipid sameness of spring banquets. Of all game birds the quail is the most dainty, and combines in the highest degree delicacy of texture, beauty of form, and subtle aroma.

It is generally admitted that of all small birds the ortolan is the best, although some fastidious epicures affect to prefer the becafico and the reed-bird. Caught in great numbers in the south of France, ortolans are subjected to a preliminary process of fattening before the day of doom. Perhaps the most refined method of cooking ortolans is the traditional one of wrapping them in a vineleaf and simply roasting them. Johannesberg is the wine of all others which has the greatest sympathy with the tiny bird of the sunny south. Wheatears abound on the great South Downs of England, and these plump morsels may be dealt with in the same fashion as their foreign compeer.

Eggs.--During spring and early summer eggs are cheap and good. Those of the plover, turkey, and guinea-hen are exquisite in flavour, and always command a comparatively high price; but the productions of the barndoor fowl, the game-fowl, the bantam and Cochin China are to be obtained at a very moderate price, while the choice vegetables now in season suggest varieties of omelet but little known to the English cuisine. Eggs should be put by for winter use during this month or next. Recipes for preserving them are given on p. 117. Fresh eggs are not easy things to choose. It is quite easy to distinguish a distinctly bad egg, because, on holding it to the light, it is seen to be opaque, and a fresh egg is transparent; but there is no such visible difference between a new-laid egg and one that is some days or weeks old. The actual difference consists in the evaporation of water and its replacement by air, so that at one end there is a large air bubble in a stale egg. This is often enough to cause a rattling of the yolk if it is shaken close to the ear. Sometimes the yolk is seen to be settled on one side. The comparative weight is a sure test, for the air is lighter than the water, and a stale egg floats in brine where a fresh one sinks; but the drawback of this test is that the salt and water are not available in the market. Dissolve 2 oz. kitchen salt in 1 pint water. When a fresh-laid egg is placed in this solution it will descend to the bottom of the vessel, while one that has been laid on the day previous will not quite reach the bottom. If the egg be 3 days old it will swim in the liquid, and if it be more than 3 days old it will float on the surface, and project above the latter more and more in proportion as it is older.

Vegetables.--Green vegetables of all sorts are now at their best. Green peas, asparagus, summer endive, spinach, and sorrel. New potatoes are plentiful, and though really inferior to the ripe tuber, are greatly preferred by many persons pretending to taste.

As is fitting in summer, salads are to be found in great abundance, and perhaps the best of these is the Cos lettuce; for plain salad or for mayonnaise of fish or fowl no better basis exists. Lobster, crab, salmon, trout, sole or chicken mayonnaises form an agreeable interlude in any repast, and the prevailing fashion of serving a plain salad with roast meat is both healthful and appetising. In all salads compounded of Cos lettuce it should never be forgotten that tarragon vinegar is indispensable, as this pleasant condiment relieves the flavour of the lettuce in the most agreeable and refreshing manner.

Fruit.--At present rhubarb and gooseberries are the only fruits available for kitchen purposes. Apricots have even descended to street barrows; they are imported, and of the hard variety generally used for cooking. By the end of the month we shall be thinking of jam, and it is not amiss to issue an early warning against the idea that damaged or over-ripe fruit is good for jam.

Early raspberries, cherries, currants, apricots, peaches and nectarines are to be obtained, but the strawberry is master of the situation. Some pretend that the flavour of the wild strawberry is superior to that of the finest cultivated varieties. Strawberries make an excellent beginning for the day, and never taste better than when plucked and eaten at once. One great advantage the strawberry unquestionably has over other fruits--it may be eaten at any time and in any quantity “without compunction.”

July.

Meat.--The fiery temperature of the dog-days renders necessary some departure from the national system of alimentation. Even the carnivorous Briton turns aside with weariness, if not absolute loathing, from huge masses of tough beef and tasteless mutton, and sighs for a break in the monotony of our insular cuisine. There is veal it is true, but the fatted calf is not relished by everybody, and grass lamb, although now in superb condition, has lost the charm of novelty, and, like salmon, is viewed askant during the torrid days of July.

Red-deer venison is the flesh of a thoroughly wild animal, and possesses a high flavour, but is unfortunately not free from a certain dryness and toughness of fibre, resulting from “too high training” or superabundance of exercise; while buck venison is a delicious compromise between the wild flavour of “beasts of venerie” and the luscious products of artificial feeding.

By many epicures the neck of a fine buck is held in almost equal estimation with the haunch. Lovers of tit-bits linger affectionately over a venison fry; this prime delicacy must be ordered of venison dealers a few days in advance, especially if the weather be very hot.

Large joints--excepting in the case of venison which is readily convertible into stews and hashes--are not to be recommended, and a recourse to “kickshaws” is almost unavoidable.

Game and Poultry.--Entrées of fowl are always dainty and wholesome. Quail and ortolan still supply the roast, which in this month receives an important addition in the leveret--the avant-courier of the game season.

A guinea-fowl well hung is the nearest approach to a pheasant that the season affords. Then there are turkey poults, green geese, ducks, wild ducks, wheatears, and plenty of poultry, besides rabbits.

Fish.--The fish for the month are salmon and salmon trout, which will not be cheaper or better than now; grey and red mullet, which was in ancient Rome prized above all fish, and is still thought a delicacy; prawns, shrimps, crayfish, most often used for soup or garnish to other fish; mackerel, still abundant, but not so good as it was some weeks ago; fresh haddocks, conger, whiting, herrings, eels, soles, plaice, turbot, Thames flounders--the cheapest of flat fish, and sometimes muddy-flavoured, though a good flounder makes not a despicable dish. A large number of ling, hake, or white salmon, coalfish, roker, and other little-known fish find their way to the less fashionable quarters of London, and are sold at a low price.

At the best tables trout take the place of salmon, while chicken-turbot and whitebait supply an agreeable variety, and the much-vilified mussel partly fills up the vacancy left by the secession of the oyster. The John Dory is now in fine condition, and yields to no fish in the sea for fineness of texture and delicacy of flavour. It is unhappily the custom to stuff the Dory with an over-rich stuffing and serve him with a potent sauce. This treatment effectually destroys the fine flavour of a fish which requires no stronger condiment than caper-sauce.

Vegetables.--Of vegetables we have a great abundance. Green peas are plentiful and cheap, and the later varieties will keep our tables supplied for many weeks yet. French beans, said to be in season when beef is in perfection, broad beans, artichokes, cauliflowers, cabbage, carrots, marrows, outdoor mushrooms if the weather is propitious, outdoor cucumbers for the next 10-12 weeks, and salad of all kinds grown quickly and crisp in summer weather, new potatoes at their best, all belong to July.

Fruit.--Walnuts should be ready for pickling at the beginning of this month. They should be so soft that a pin easily penetrates them. This is a good time to make all sorts of pickles; but it is cheaper to buy them than to buy all the materials. Ketchup can be made of the shell when the walnuts are ripe in September.

What fruit ripens this mouth depends greatly on the part of England where one looks for it. In the large markets, where much foreign fruit comes, the seasons are not definitely defined, and all sorts of fruits are to be found out of their proper season. Much, probably more than half, of the peaches and nectarines and better kinds of fruit grown for sale, are grown in houses, or at least with some protection of glass. Without it they will hardly ripen in the north of England, and everywhere the uncertainty of spring weather, and the fatality of a wet frost while the fruit is setting, make the glass almost a necessity where the crop is raised for profit.

The cry of “cherry ripe” is still familiar, and the subacid fruit is exceedingly grateful to a parched palate. Strawberries are on the wane, but raspberries, currants, and gooseberries take their place. On the good qualities of raspberry and currant tart it is needless to dilate.

August.

Game.--The great events for the fashionable and dining world during the coming month are, no doubt, the commencement of grouse shooting on the 12th, and of black-cock shooting on the 21st. At one time, when it was less customary for gentlemen to sell game, a great part of that sold in shops was obtained in some questionable manner. Perhaps even now there will be some who do not think of marketing for grouse, but wait until a present comes from friends at a Scotch or Yorkshire moor. From whatever source grouse are obtained, the housekeeper ought to know if they are old or young birds, in order to avoid the old in case of purchase, and to cook the young and hang the old in case of gift. It is comparatively easy to distinguish the two when lying side by side. The undeveloped plumage, the smooth legs, the short spur are conspicuous. The old birds are usually larger than the young, and the bones of the pinion and thigh stiffen with age. They are not so easy to distinguish apart, except by practice. The old birds not only are improved by longer hanging, but require longer to cook, so that it is better not to serve old and young on the same day. Except for this addition, the meat supply remains as for last month.

Vegetables.--Some of the summer vegetables are past their best days, but their place is speedily taken by others. Vegetable marrows can be cut and hung up for winter use, and French beans are still tender enough for pickling, though the length of time they will continue so depends on getting a due proportion of rain with summer sunshine. In dry seasons vegetables are always stringy and tough.

Fruit.--Gooseberries, raspberries, and currants will not last the month out in the warmer parts of England. Even if they are kept from the birds they drop from the trees as soon as they are perfectly ripe, and there is so much other fruit that they are not missed. Strawberries are nearly over, although a few late varieties are still fit for table. But there is no scarcity of fruit for those who have money in pocket. The market lists comprise peaches, nectarines, apricots, greengages, melons, grapes, green figs, early pear and apples, pine-apples, oranges, lemons.

Groceries.--With regard to groceries, there are two very distinct points to be debated. In the present day no hints on marketing are in any way complete without some consideration of the advantages and disadvantages connected with retail shops and co-operative stores. It will be conceded by every one that the stores are not well adapted for the sale of goods involving great latitude of choice. Nor, as a rule, have they large trade in articles of an exceptionally perishable character. Rapidity of distribution is one of the conveniences that customers at stores have decided they prefer not to pay for. Housekeepers, as well as servants, who are accustomed to have a boy to call daily for orders, and return in an hour’s time with the order, though it be only 6_d._ worth of sugar or 1 lb. of steak, often have an insuperable objection to the stores. The fact is that the stores make heavier demands upon their foresight than people can meet. None of us is so long-sighted in her household arrangements that she would like to be wholly dependent on the stores. The country shops exist for the benefit of even the most uncompromising adherents of the stores, and, that being so, it is just as well to remember that if no one ever deals with the shops they may some day die of inanition, and that during a slow decline they must deteriorate. It is, no doubt, a remembrance of these facts that induces many persons to deal with local tradesmen, even though they make no tangible difference in their prices for ready money. And then the competition of the stores has brought into existence the ready-money shops. Some are well known to all. There is no reason why they should not sell as well and as cheaply as the stores if they adhere strictly to the “no credit” system, if they spend no more than the stores do on rent in a fashionable neighbourhood, advertisements, ground-floor space, plate-glass windows, and such unnecessary luxuries. But the difficulty of enforcing ready-money payment is very great where the bulk of the customers are weekly wage-earners, liable to be thrown out of work at any time through ill-health, winter weather, depression of trade. It would not be necessary to insist on the want of thrift that makes these people live always on the wages of the week to come, instead of on the wages of the week gone by, if this were a habit solely confined to the uneducated classes. But it seems the ordinary custom of most persons earning limited incomes--and it is productive of so much misery that the one hint for housekeepers of all degree needing most to be pressed home is that to make a practice of paying ready money is the only way to ensure good value, either in the goods purchased or in comfort gained.

September.

Meat.--As for the meat market, buck venison goes out, and pork is again seasonable. It need scarcely be said that fresh pork is eaten all the year round by a section of the public. All meat ought to be very cheap. The highest prices for mutton always mean for Southdown, of which there is only enough to supply a small percentage of customers. Not a twentieth part of the mutton killed is Southdown, so that butchers cannot fairly quote the prices given for it as a justification of exorbitant retail prices of mutton in general. Southdown sheep carry most of their weight in the hind quarter, and the Leicester and other coarser sheep are heavier in front, and this also must be allowed for in quoting market prices, as the fore quarter is always cheaper than the leg and loin.

Ham must not be too new. The best manufacturers keep their hams for some months before they send them out; but people in a small way of business cannot afford to turn over their money so slowly, and it never would answer to keep cheap hams. If the consumer has no place to keep them, it is often possible to make arrangements to have them kept a month or two at the shop. Ham and bacon must be hung up in a warm but airy place, and they are generally tied in canvas or paper bags. They are often hung in a kitchen, which does very well if it is not too warm. There is much fashion and fancy as to choice of different parts of bacon. The streaky covering of the rib bones, corresponding to the thin flank of beef and breast of mutton, is preferred for boiling, and commands a high price, strangely enough, because that is one of the cheapest parts of other meat. A leaner part is the back, or part of the gammon. The cheapest is the fore hock or fore end, for boiling or family use. Part of the thick flank is very good for boiling. To choose bacon, a knife or skewer should be run in close to the bone, and, when withdrawn, should have no strong, rancid smell. The bacon should not have yellow, “rusty” patches.

Game and Poultry.--Partridge-shooting begins with the month. Much the same hints must be given to distinguish old from young as for grouse. The tough, hard beak is characteristic of last year’s birds; the under half of the beak breaks or bends if a young bird is held up by it. There is also in the breast plumage of an old bird a mark shaped like a horseshoe. They should have dark-coloured bills and yellowish legs. French partridges, with the beautiful grey and brown plumage, are not considered so good eating; they are slightly larger.

September witnesses the advent of the stubble-goose in all the glory of sage and onions and apple-sauce, but many prefer gosling, or tender adolescent “green” goose, to the plump stubble-fed bird. This animal must of course be roasted to get rid of his superabundant fat; but in Ireland a curious dish, called a goose-pie, is often consumed by the robust inhabitants, and boiled goose is sometimes eaten in the rural districts.

Fish.--Net-fishing ended last month, but line-fishing still goes on. Good takes of herring are reported from the Scotch coast, and before the month is out the Cornish fishermen will be drawing their harvest of pilchards from the sea, packing and curing them for foreign exportation. This yearly exportation of pilchards is one of the unaccountable food customs of England. We send them to the Mediterranean, and we import sardines in oil. Sardines are eaten everywhere, and yet the two fish are so much alike that many persons believe them to be the same in different stages of growth; and in appearance and flavour they both strongly resemble herrings, which are eaten in England far more than any other fish. It is said of herring, pilchard, and sardine, that if you hold them up by the dorsal fin, one tilts its head up, the other its tail up, and the third swings even.

Oysters are again in the market. Small ones with fairly smooth shells are the best, though it may be advisable to buy the larger and less delicate fish at a lower price for scalloping or cooking.

In a country admirably supplied with lobsters the tiny crayfish cuts an insignificant figure, except in the eyes of those who by foreign travel have become awakened to its rare merit. To be thoroughly appreciated, the crayfish should be eaten hot, and “accommodated” à la bordelaise.

Among true fishes grey mullet holds the chiefest place during the present month. This excellent fish may be cooked in various ways--boiled, broiled, or au vin blanc. John Dory holds his position, but salmon is gone and codfish is hardly yet in season; turbot and brill are good in September, and the latter fish is no insignificant rival to the turbot.

Vegetables.--This month sees many of the winter’s potatoes out of the ground, and stored in a dry dark place for winter. In choosing them it should be remembered that large deep eyes cut to waste. Champions, for instance, are good, but on this account not economical. A rough-skinned potato is generally floury; but there are many exceptions to this rule. Small potatoes are seldom economical, even at a low price, the waste in peeling being so great. The best way to try them is by cooking a few in various ways.

As the golden tints of summer are succeeded by the brown hues of autumn, a certain falling off in vegetables begins to make itself felt; but ripe potatoes, scarlet tomatoes, creamy cauliflowers, and abundant artichokes console us in some measure for the asparagus, peas and beans of earlier days. Summer salads are scarce, while the celery and endive of winter have not yet appeared. Cold cooked cauliflower makes an excellent salad, and potato salad is well known in America and in Germany. The comparative cheapness of artichokes at this season is a strong inducement to indulge in one of the most delicate of all possible salads. Cut up and served either with plain salad dressing, or better still with a rich mayonnaise, artichoke bottoms present a delicious dish, and if a little cooked and finely minced truffle be added, the salad gains much in elegance and flavour.

It is a delusion to suppose that the small button mushrooms are the only variety worthy of careful cookery. The huge field mushrooms are excellent when toasted and eaten for breakfast, with a little pepper, salt, and butter, and a slice of well-made dry toast.

Fruit.--Stone-fruit of all kinds is to be had in abundance. Peaches and plums, apples and pears, form the basis of many charming tarts, pies, and puddings. West Indian pines are to be bought at a low price, and as the tropical fruit lacks the high flavour of hothouse fruit, it is perhaps eaten to the best advantage when sliced and dressed with wine, sugar, and a little orange or lemon juice. Magnificent melons of all sizes, shapes, and colours, from the huge green rosy-hearted water melon, and the rocky-looking Dutch variety to the elegant “cantelupe,” the dainty “nutmeg,” the recherché “green fleshed,” and the tiny “golden drop.” In this country it is but too common to regard the melon simply as a dessert fruit, to be eaten with sugar and accompanied by wine. Eaten in this way the melon is excellent; but perhaps the true use of the melon, like that of most fruits, is to form the initial dish of the day. In America it is customary to begin breakfast with a melon seasoned with pepper and salt.

The apple crop is commencing in most parts of the country; but winter apples will not be picked until quite the end of the month.

Buying at the Stores almost necessitates buying in large quantities. Whether it is wise to do this more than one is compelled must depend to some extent on the facilities for keeping groceries. If they are anything tolerable, it will not be amiss to give a large order for necessaries at the beginning of the month or quarter, when last month’s earnings or income have just been paid. Some groceries improve by keeping, as, for instance, candles and soap, which harden by exposure to the air, and so do not waste in use.

Many others are no worse for keeping. Under this head come all the groceries that are sent out in air-tight tins and bottles, and these are also delightfully independent of a bad store-room; and the greater number of the rest will keep without harm in wood or earthenware for any reasonable length of time. The things that do harm with keeping are those that are artificially dried, such as oatmeal and maize meal, which readily take up moisture from the surrounding air and turn bitter. Salt, and, to some extent, sugar, have the same disagreeable absorbent power, but they can easily be dried, and return to their former condition. Cheese is another thing that improves with keeping in a damp place, or closely covered; but, as the process of ripening is really a careful cultivation of mites and mould, and, as mould is fatal to most food, it is not wise to buy a store of cheese and keep it in the store-room.

To choose groceries is not always an easy thing. One would need to qualify for a buyer in the grocery trade to do it well. But a few hints every one can pick up, and every one will find useful. The quotations in the daily newspapers will not help us much, for those paragraphs bristle with trade terms, and are barely intelligible to the outsider. A grocer selects sugar by the taste and smell; to the average housekeeper all sugars smell alike. Mites are common in moist sugar, less so in crystallised, and they may be detected by dropping a pinch into water; the sugar sinks and the mites float. Presently the sugar dissolves, and the sediment may fairly be taken for sand or other adulterant. The profit on the sale of cane sugar has of late been extremely small; in fact, cane sugar has often during the past year sold for less than it cost to bring it to England. The chief adulterant used is grape sugar, which is made from starchy matter. Grape sugar has much less sweetening power than cane sugar--5 parts of the former doing the work of 3 of the latter--and it crystallises with difficulty. The sugar prepared from beet, of which much is used in England, is cheaper, and therefore it also may be said to be used as an adulterant, when it is passed off for cane sugar; but the two sugars nearly resemble one another, and there is no reason to suppose that beet sugar is unsuitable for preserving. There is, however, this difference in the two sugars--i.e. that the treacle drained off from beet sugar has an unpleasant flavour, and so cannot be used as cane treacle is. Lump sugar and crystallised sugar are least likely to be adulterated, and are therefore better to buy than ordinary moist sugar.

Rice is sold under many names. Aracan is the lowest priced, and that grown in Rangoon is not much dearer. Patna rice is recommended for curries, because it is said to keep its shape better when boiled, and occasionally Carolina, which is very large grained, is spoken of. True Carolina is seldom met with in this country; there is but a limited supply, and little of that leaves America; selected Patna does duty under its name. The rice that swells most in cooking is the best. Rice is like potatoes, and different sorts develop different tendencies, and need different treatment. Good Rangoon is generally cheapest for household purposes, and good rice broken is more advantageous than inferior rice whole. Tapioca used to be an article of luxury, but is now as cheap as sago, which it strongly resembles in taste and nourishing power. Corn-flour can always be recommended. To ensure having a genuine article it is well to order the brand of an established house.

October.

Meat.--The grosser viands, supplied by the butcher, are in great perfection. Beef, mutton, and veal are all to be recommended, and lamb has been replaced by pork. Esteemed coarse and indigestible by many, the flesh of youthful swine yet possesses rare merits.

Game and Poultry.--Pheasants come into the market. Ude says they should “be eaten when blood runs from the bill, generally 6-7 days.” Cooked quite fresh, they have not much more flavour than a fowl; but the time of keeping depends on the weather. In damp, warm weather nothing keeps long or well. The birds should be plucked just before cooking; always hung in the feathers. The development of the spur in the cock bird, and of the wing feathers in both cock and hen, show the age. The hen is smaller, but generally thought better.

Hares are plentiful. Many are brought from abroad. The average weight of a hare is about 5-7 lb., but it is not a suitable dish to serve for a large party, as, except for the slices on either side of the back, there are no choice morsels to be carved from a hare. There are few dishes that it is so hard to carve well. An old hare should be well hung, and jugged rather than roasted. It may be distinguished from a young one by its size, by the much-spread cleft in the upper lip, by the rough and blunted claws, and by the comparatively small size of the knee joints. A hare should hang some time, “better not paunched or skinned, but if paunched, it should be wiped inside every day, and sprinkled with pepper and ginger.” Some persons advise that an old hare should lie for a time in vinegar and water. Vinegar always has the effect of softening the fibres of meat, and so making it less tough. It is for this reason that vinegar is often added to boiled meat or stew.

Rabbits are also very plump and good, and barndoor poultry is abundant. Capons, ducks, geese, and young turkeys crowd the markets. By no exercise of the culinary art can the tame duck be made to rival her wild compeer, but she is nevertheless very toothsome when “accommodated” aux olives.

Fish.--Among the fishes of the present month may be found John Dory, grey mullet, and red mullet. During October turbot is very fine. A sigh of regret must, however, be exhaled over the persistence of English people in accompanying this delicate fish with the rich stew popularly known as lobster sauce. Hollandaise sauce and caper sauce are much to be preferred, for one reason among others, that they permit the epicure to taste the fried smelts or fried oysters, with which every turbot should be served.

Smelts, soles, whiting, skate, eels, and the famous Dublin Bay haddock are now in season; but although codfish is supposed to be “in” from September to March, the true gourmand will reserve the pleasure of discussing that magnificent dish--cod’s head and shoulders with oyster sauce--until at least November. Sea bream, a fish in good condition during the autumn and winter, only requires to be properly understood and properly dressed to be thoroughly appreciated.

Vegetables.--Potatoes need be covered only when there is fear of frost; but they must never be exposed to the sun, especially when they are washed and freed from the particles of earth that cling to their skins. They should be turned over, and any diseased ones picked out from time to time.

The common way of buying potatoes is by weight or by measure. Small consumers almost always buy by weight, but it is not in any way a good plan. It is dear. 2_d._ a lb. is not an uncommon price; 9_s._ a bushel is almost unheard of. Last year it was easy to get very fair potatoes at 1_s._ 6_d._-2_s._ a bushel of 56 lb. There must be few households where a bushel of potatoes could not be eaten while they were good, and they would keep very well in a sack at the bottom of a cupboard, if no better placed offered. In larger quantities they can be had cheaper than by the bushel. Just as with carrots, or onions; they are cheapest soon after they are dug out of the ground; and carrots keep well in any outhouse or cellar that is fairly dry, stacked a few inches from the ground, and covered when the frost comes. Per bushel the price is very moderate; but they make a considerable item in housekeeping expenses when they are bought one or two at a time from the greengrocer’s stall. Onions are even easier to keep, for they do not dry up as carrots are apt to dry in the kitchen cupboard, nor sprout so soon as carrots if they are too damp.

Vegetables are also sold by the sack or by the stone of 8 lb. Local customs vary much. The actual weights and measures are standard the same over all the country; but what is sold by weight in one county is sold by measure in another. One needs be a ready reckoner to turn pounds into gallons, stones into bushels or sacks, quarts into pecks. And it is easy to see that a given measure does not contain the same weight of any two things. A gallon nominally holds ⅛ of a corn bushel, which is 7 lb. Practically a gallon measure of fruit may weigh anything over 5½ lb. Sometimes though the measure is spoken of, the weight is given. Of course, the larger the fruit, the less advantageous to the purchaser to measure instead of weigh. The disadvantage may be enough to compensate for the great waste of small potatoes, small apples, or other fruit.

To pass over the truffle when discussing the luxuries of October would be an unpardonable omission. The diamonds of the kitchen are never in more superb condition than at present. On their immense value, from their faculty of communicating an incomparable flavour to everything with which they are associated, it is needless to dilate. France rejoices in no less than 4 species of truffles; and of these priority of place is universally granted to the black truffle of Périgord.

Apart from the important position occupied by truffles in sauces, salads, farces, and entrées, the truffle possesses the admirable faculty of enhancing the flavour of Burgundy about fifty per cent.

With the exception of peas, beans, and asparagus, almost every vegetable is in season. Artichokes, tomatoes, aubergines, cardoons, cauliflowers, Brussels sprouts, and winter spinach may all be had.

Fruit.--Lovers of fruit may rejoice in late peaches and plums, early apples and delicious pears. Grapes are also abundant; and the advent of ripe walnuts is enthusiastically hailed.

Plums can be kept many weeks if wrapped in thin paper and laid singly on wood. Damsons and bullaces hang through the early frost, and can be kept through November, laid out on wooden trays. They are besides the most suitable fruit for bottling and preserving for tarts, and are greatly in demand, and generally much dearer than cooking plums.

Mulberries and blackberries are plentiful, but the former travel so ill that they have not much place in the markets. Blackberries are seldom sold except in country and seaside towns. The American blackberry, having a larger and fuller-flavoured fruit, and more serrated leaves, has been introduced into this country, and promises to be a valuable addition to our list of autumn fruits.

The best way of keeping ripe nuts is in an earthenware crock covered, in a cellar, where they remain quite moist up to Christmas. Those who have forgotten to make walnut pickle in July can turn the shells into good ketchup now.

Chestnuts are generally sent to our markets from abroad, and, there being little demand for them except as luxuries, they are dear. The Spanish chestnut grows and ripens well in many parts of England; but most of the trees are valued chiefly for their ornamental appearance, it not being worth while to plant trees for the sake of the nut harvest.

November.

Fish.--At the head of the fish list is the cod, which has never quite disappeared from the market, though its season is from November to March. It is best in cold, frosty weather, and caught in high latitudes. The Dogger Bank is the fishing ground best known by name, but there are several different species brought to the London market, which perhaps accounts for the great variety in the quality of this fish. A thick head, red gills, bright eyes, flesh bronze-shaded where it is cut, are all indications of a good and fresh fish. It should besides be elastic to touch, with a stiff back and tail, which shows that it is likely to be firm-fleshed. It will crimp only when it is very fresh. The sound and liver are both esteemed. Cod liver is a very suitable food to buy for an invalid, if it should happen to be relished, as it is both nourishing and digestible.

The following are mentioned as fish in season; Barbel, brill, carp, cod, dace, eels, haddocks, herrings, ling, perch, pike, plaice, skate, smelt, soles, sprats, tench, whiting, cockles, mussels, crabs, lobsters, oysters. In this country fresh-water fish do not form an important article of food. Their excellence depends almost entirely on the character of the stream in which they are caught. Like all fresh-water fish, the larger they are the better. Shell-fish are also among the foods that vary most according to special conditions of their life. Well-known instances of mussels having proved poisonous when taken from the copper sheathing of an old pier, and of shrimps that caused symptoms of poisoning because they were caught at the outlet of a sewer, have originated a belief that to eat any cheap shell-fish is dangerous to health. But there seems no foundation for the belief.

Meat.--There is nothing new to be said about meat this month. Beef, mutton, veal, doe venison, pork are in season. Small pork, with a thin rind, a fair amount of fat, finely-grained lean, and small bones is to be chosen for roasting; bacon pork is fatter and larger. The quality of pork depends on the food that has fattened it.

Game and Poultry.--Birds are never more plentiful than in November. Partridges, pheasants, grouse, wild duck, teal, plover, dotterel, woodcock, snipes, widgeon, ducks, geese, turkeys, fowls, are all in season. The best turkeys are said to be fattened in Norfolk. At any rate, most persons will agree that those fed and fattened in England are preferable to those sent from Ireland, France, or Belgium. The number consumed in England at Christmas is very much greater than the number fattened in this country. The best indication of youth is the absence of spur and the smooth skin, soft and silky to touch, which with age becomes hard and wrinkled. As to plumpness, that may be felt by the breast and thighs. It is not quite easy to see if a fowl is plump, for either it has its feathers on or else it is trussed, and the skill of the poulterer is used to give the bird its best possible appearance. With this aim it is pressed into a round plump shape, a thin layer of fat is laid over the breast, known as the leaf, and supposed to come out of the bird, but quite as often fetched from the butcher’s shop, and even white down is powdered over and secured with a little gum. A hairy turkey, with reddish or purplish thighs and back, is likely to be old, so is one of unusually large size. The chief attainment of a successful poultry breeder is to get size and youth together, but it is only the successful who accomplish it.

Partridges and pheasants are much cheaper than last month. It is no longer quite so easy to distinguish old birds from young, as the plumage is gradually developing. One sign of youth is that the penfeathers are pointed in a young, rounded in an old bird. It happens very often that wild duck, widgeon, teal, and sometimes the common plover are sold at a very low price in the London markets, or are hawked about the streets. All these birds are apt to be coarse-flavoured, rank, and fishy. It is rare that a widgeon is anything else. Teal is the best of the three, and a good wild duck is not to be despised. The most of them are caught in the fens of Lincolnshire, where they abound. All these birds have soft pliable legs and feet while they are fresh, and the legs very soon dry and stiffen. They should be eaten as fresh as possible, for keeping only develops the oily flavour. Of plovers there are two kinds, the golden and the grey, the latter being the commoner and the former the better kind. Neither is so commonly seen on fashionable tables as plovers’ eggs, for which, however, the eggs of other semi-aquatic birds are often substituted.

Coals.--A few words about coals may not be unacceptable to some housekeepers. They always last longer if they are kept in a well-ventilated coal-cellar. Shut up, they give off gas, which helps forward their speedy consumption, and is also unwholesome to the inmates of the house. Country people cannot do better than keep the coals out of doors--that is, if they can so arrange that they are not likely to be stolen to any large amount. If they are wetted, so much the better, for they burn slower, and make less dust. By far the cheapest way is to have a truckload (about 7 tons) direct from the colliery; in that way they cost several shillings a ton less. The coalheaver is one of those public functionaries who comes in for a good share of general abuse. As coals are sold by weight, the most obvious way of delivering short measure is by wetting them, when a given bulk weighs more. It is also easy to fill the sacks less than full. A respectable coal merchant would not lend himself to any such practices. Of course, with connivance of the servants, it is easy to deliver any quantity of coals a sack or two short; but that might equally be said of any other goods. Coke helps much to economise coal, and should be purchased of the gas company. Briquettes made of coal-dust are very cheap and most enduring fuel; they are sold by special agents.

December.

Meat.--All meats are in their primest condition in this month.

Game and Poultry.--Barndoor poultry specially challenges attention during the present month. Deliciously plump, fat, well-fed capons come from the Eastern counties.

To the enormous turkeys so popular at Christmas-tide we cannot accord unqualified admiration, as they are terribly apt to be dry and tasteless--not to say stringy. Smaller turkeys than those in fashion at the present moment yield a far greater amount of satisfaction. Perhaps the best way to deal with a turkey of exaggerated dimensions is to boil and serve it with celery sauce or oyster sauce, both excellent accompaniments to any kinds of boiled poultry.

Towards the end of the month doe venison puts in an appearance. Hares and wild rabbits are still very good, and even tame rabbits, when very fat, are by no means to be despised. Rabbits are often sold skinned and trussed for table, and in that state they are not so easy to choose well. The claws should be smooth and sharp, the knee joints large, the ears soft; when it is old its fur turns grey. If fresh it will be supple and moist, with a blue tinge on the flesh. Wild rabbits have more flavour; tame are whiter, fatter, and more delicate. Fowls, geese, pigeons, teal, turkeys, widgeon, wild duck, larks, ortolans, partridges, pheasants, plovers, quails, snipe, woodcock, and swan are all in season just now, and at no time is there so much choice of birds. Pigeons vary much; to waste and to fatten is with them only the work of hours. They should not be fully fledged when they come to table, and the fillets should be bright red; when old these darken to purple and the legs are thin.

Grouse are getting scarce, and are but feebly replaced by capercailzie and ptarmigan. Partridges and pheasants are still in prime condition, and all sorts of water-fowl are in great abundance. Woodcock and snipe, having had ample time to recuperate after their migration, are now superbly plump, while to those who cannot afford such expensive luxuries the golden plover affords a tolerable substitute. The lark also affords a toothsome morsel.

Fish.--Codfish is now in its prime; the perennial sole still appears in many shapes on well-appointed tables; while sturgeon, turbot, skate, whiting, and the delicious smelt contend for notice. Red mullet also charms the eye and palate.

Vegetables.--The vegetable world, albeit less generous than in the summer months, still affords sufficient luxuries. Brussels sprouts, spinach, savoys, and Scotch kale, rival in tenderness the excellent greens so much sought after at Christmas. Carrots are still good; while cardoons and salsify--a root which has curiously enough, like cardoons, dropped out of fashion in England--are also to be obtained. Radishes, endive, and beetroot supply salads, and celery is in prime condition.

Forced seakale and beans are already in the market. Broccoli, parsnips, celery, artichokes, turnips, leeks, onions, sorrel, beet, winter salads, are the commonest vegetables.

Fruit.--For fresh fruits we have apples and pears home-grown, and apples, oranges, tomatoes, grapes from abroad, and hothouse pineapples and melons. In dried fruits the choice is endless. Raisins, currants, and sultanas are but three names given to many different kinds of dried grape. They should be plump and moist, and have few or no stones in their skins. Large cake-makers often pour boiling water on them to make them swell and look plump in the cake. The relative prices vary a good deal. As a rule, currants cost less than raisins or sultanas; but then they are not so nourishing nor so sweet, and they do not go so far. The best raisins are generally sold on the stalks for table fruit, and they are to be preferred for cooking. From raisins one passes by an easy transition to almonds. Jordan almonds are about double the price of the Valencia, which, however, serve very well for many purposes. The best are long and oval-shaped, the commoner kind rounder and flat. Bitter almonds come from Mogador. Peach nut oil is often used to flavour in their stead, but should be used with great care, as it is a poison; indeed, many persons cannot eat anything flavoured with bitter almonds, even though the flavouring is not at all strong. Green almonds and pistachio nuts are very much liked by some persons, but they are not imported in large quantities, possibly because they soon turn rancid.

All kinds of French and Portuguese plums are said to improve by keeping. The various kinds of tinned fruits have, to some extent, driven these out of popular favour.

SUPPLEMENTARY LITERATURE.

F. R. Hogg: ‘Indian Notes.’ London. 1880. 5_s._

Dr. R. Riddell: ‘Indian Domestic Economy and Receipt Book, with Hindustan romanized names; comprising numerous directions for plain wholesome cookery, both Oriental and English; with much miscellaneous matter, answering all general purposes of reference connected with household affairs likely to be immediately required by families, messes, and private individuals residing at the Presidencies or out-stations.’ Calcutta and London. 8th edition, 1877. 6_s._

The Queen. London, weekly. 6_d._

THE DINING-ROOM.

=Dietetics.=--The naturally proper introduction to the art of serving meals is a knowledge of the science of eating. To gain this it is not necessary to study anatomy, nor physiology, nor even chemistry; it is sufficient for the ordinary individual to make himself familiar with the main facts relating to the nutritive and digestive qualities of the various foods, and to exercise a moderate amount of common sense in applying the facts to his own particular case.

Quantity and Quality of Food needed.--The subject has recently been attacked in very sensible language by Dr. R. M. Hodges, in a paper read before the Boston Society for Medical Improvement, from whom much that follows is quoted.

Dr. Hodges remarks that the amount of food required by a healthy adult will surprise most persons, even those who are good feeders. While this varies with the work performed, the heat or cold of the weather, and the condition and quality of the food taken, it has been estimated that, in the case of a man in health and of average size, the total daily ration should weigh about 6 lb. 13¼ oz., of which 1 lb. 5¼ oz. consist of dry food substance, the remaining 5½ lb. being water.

According to Church, under ordinary circumstances a daily ration should contain something like the following proportions and quantities of its main ingredients:--

Water 5 lb. 8 oz. 320 gr. Albuminoids, or flesh-formers 0 lb. 4 oz. 110 gr. Starch, sugar, &c. 0 lb. 11 oz. 178 gr. Fat 0 lb. 3 oz. 337 gr. Common salt 0 lb. 0 oz. 325 gr. Phosphates, potash, salts, &c. 0 lb. 0 oz. 170 gr.

This might be furnished by a mixed diet of the following foods:--

oz. Bread 18 } Butter 1 } Milk 4 } Bacon 2 } Altogether these quantities Potatoes 8 } will contain about Cabbage 6 } 1 lb. 5¾ oz. of dry substance, Cheese 3½ } though they weigh Sugar 1 } in all 6 lb. 14½ oz. Salt ¾ } Water alone and in tea, } coffee, beer, &c. 66¼ }

It will be seen that the weight of this allotment exceeds by 1 oz. even when the solid matter contained in beverage is omitted--that of the analytic table which precedes it. This excess is mainly owing to the fact that in all articles of food actually used there are small quantities of matters (cellulose, &c.) which cannot be reckoned as having a real feeding value. (A. H. Church, ‘Food.’)

Authorities on the subject of diet say that nitrogen is the most essential of all foods, and that a certain amount--about 316 gr.--should be taken daily by an adult man. If the minimum quantity of nitrogen (which, for the sake of argument, may be put as low as 250 gr.) be not consumed, the various functions of the body languish, and a degree of weakness is induced, with greater or less rapidity, according as the quantity falls much or little below 250 gr. per diem. But let the consumption drop to an average of only 138 gr., which is the smallest amount necessary for the bare maintenance of life, and in a year or two (not at once, for every body contains a store of nitrogen) important modifications of the nutritive processes, with distinct predispositions to disease, will inevitably be established. (Parkes.)

These results of experimental investigation have a practical significance. They find expression in the fact that a failure to consume all the essential elements of full rations, whether nitrogenous or non-nitrogenous, will sooner or later, as in the disastrous Irish and Lancashire famines, give rise to a train of symptoms which have been justly denominated those of “chronic starvation.”

From the small knowledge of the value of food possessed by individuals as well as the public, a diminution in its adequate supply easily escapes attention; loss of appetite is looked upon with indifference, and the first steps are inadvertently taken toward a condition which is as full of meaning in the case of a single person as when a whole community are its subjects. The absence or the keenness of appetite affords no indication of the amount of food which the stomach will digest and the body assimilate or an individual be benefited by swallowing.

The body requires not only to be fed, but filled; and the object of eating is as often to bring up past arrears as to supply present demands. Quality of food, with all the heat and force it may contain, will not make up for quantity, which is required for constructive and reparative purposes. The constant waste of flesh and blood can only be compensated for by an equivalent assimilation of actual materials. Yet, in spite of this self-evident proposition, a large proportion of the better educated classes of the community readily deceive themselves and mislead others in regard to the amount of food necessary for their welfare and nutrition.

From a practice, often beginning in infancy with the common maternal prejudice against giving solid food at a sufficiently early period and in adequate amount, persisted in through childhood from an erroneous idea that “meat once a day” is an ample supply of animal food, still continued during adolescence, especially in the case of girls, under the conceit that eating heartily, or “between meals,” is neither wholesome nor lady-like, a habit of going without enough sustenance is finally established in adult life which is further perpetuated and confirmed by a great variety of influences. Among the more common may be mentioned personal temperament, disturbed mental conditions, languid indoor life, fatigue and exhaustion, theoretical dietetic prejudices, fastidiousness as to eatables, unwise distribution of meals, insufficient variety of food, too rigid domestic economy, and, pre-eminently, the revived fashion of tight lacing. These, and a multitude of similar agencies, apart from pathological derangements, are well-recognised causes of deficient bodily nourishment and prolific sources of disturbed health, revealing themselves in deficient weight, “weakness,” anæmia (want of blood), feeble circulation, neuralgia, cough and throat trouble, constipation, headache, backache, nausea, and a variety of phenomena, unconnected with sensible organic alterations, but characterised by neurotic and functional symptoms easily magnified by the patient and overtreated by the physician.

As testifying to the widespread ignorance relating to food and feeding, the following extract may be quoted from the Medical Times and Gazette, May 24, 1884, p. 712:--“At the existing (1884) International Health Exhibition, London, the ‘Vegetarian Society’ are furnishing a sixpenny dinner to 400-500 people daily. From a carefully kept account of the substances used for the bill of fare the following ‘food equivalents’ have been reduced, showing that each diner receives, of

Albuminoids 0·63 oz. Fat 0·44 oz. Carbohydrates 3·17 oz. Mineral matters 0·09 oz.

Physiologists lay down the standard diet for ordinary labour pretty much as follows:--

Albuminoids 4·2 oz. Fat 1·6 oz. Carbohydrates 18·7 oz. Mineral matters 1·0 oz.

It appears, therefore, that it would require about six of the sixpenny dinners to support a man during a day’s hard labour.”

The consequences of an insufficient dietary, says Hodges, are most frequently exemplified in young people, of both sexes, growing school children, boys fitting for college, débutantes in society, young mothers of families, seamstresses, shop girls, &c.; and, although they also appear at other periods of life, and under other circumstances than those which have been enumerated, it is during the years of adolescence that the utilisation of feeding has its supreme value, and its prophylactic and curative effects, as a therapeutic method, are most easily obtained. Sir Andrew Clark, Grailly Hewett, Clifford Allbutt, and others, who have described the ailments which follow inadequate alimentation, have especially urged the necessity for greater attention to the question of diet in the bringing up of families.

The underfed constitute so considerable a class that a large part of medical practice is devoted to attempts at satisfying their importunate demands for “something which shall make them feel better.” To attack with drugs symptoms which are daily regenerated by starvation is labour in vain, so long as that condition is permitted to exist. But if the famished tissues of those who say they are not sick, and there is nothing the matter with them, only that they “do not feel well,” and “cannot eat,” be permeated with the fat which is so often loathed in food--if veins be filled with a more bounteous supply of blood, and if outdoor air be made attainable without the expenditure of an already slender supply of strength--their bodily functions will take on renewed vigour and be reanimated from better life-giving resources, force will be stored up, energy will be developed, and innumerable discomforts evicted. The futile use of iron, quinine, bitters, elixirs, and other so-called “tonics,” either when self-prescribed or methodically directed by physicians, and the insuccess of medicines, as a rule, to relieve the wearisome complaints daily listened to from persons whose mode of living is an injustice to themselves, do not always serve as a reminder that suitable nutriment, in some form or other, is the only real “tonic,” and that its methodical consumption can alone relieve the protean afflictions of many, if not most, of these querulous supplicants. To say to them in a vague and general way that a nourishing diet should be taken, and that anxiety and overwork are to be avoided, is to give weak advice. The most rigid and literal obedience to fixed and precise rules in regard to the quantity and character of their food and the times of taking it--in fact, the carrying out of a process of “stuffing,” practised at short intervals of time, without regard to appetite and pushed to the stomach’s maximum capacity of digestion--is necessary to extricate them from their deplorable situation.

The theoretical standard of a full ration has been given. The conventional standard, however, is an unsettled one. The statement that a person eats as much as other members of his or her family may mean a great deal or nothing, for there are large and small eaters both by habit as well as by example, and there can be no criterion of the amount proper to be eaten under given circumstances except that which is determined by a physician’s judgment. This amount, as has been said, should not only be specified exactly, but its consumption ensured, and nothing but precise and positive evidence accepted in regard to the fulfilment of the specifications given. (R. M. Holmes.)

Function of Food.--The subject is treated from another point of view by F. W. Moinet, in a lecture on Food and Work, read before the Pharmaceutical Society, who observes that as the food we eat or drink--the latter term applying only to the condition of the article used whether fluid or solid--is the only source from which the elements forming the constituents of the body are derived, it naturally follows that no article of food can satisfy the requirements of life which fails to comply with this condition. But as comparatively few articles of food contain all these elements, or in their proper proportion, it follows that we must combine different articles of food together to make a satisfactory meal, i.e. a meal not only sufficient to satisfy the appetite, but also capable of supplying the different elements required by the tissue to replace what has been spent on work. Hence the reason and necessity of living on a varied diet, which experience taught our ancestors long before the scientific facts on which it is founded were discovered. For with the exception of milk, which is a perfect food, no ordinary article of diet contains all the necessary elements. But this is not only a necessity, but also a great advantage, as our food would be very apt to pall on our palates were it always the same, so nature liberally supplies us with a great variety to choose from, which are nearly equally capable of nourishing the body, and at the same time suiting different tastes, which to some individuals is a matter of importance, either from habit or natural peculiarity, still more valuable to the invalid whose recovery sometimes depends not on medicine, but on diet.

Another reason of this variety in nature is that all animals and vegetables are not found to flourish under the same conditions of climate and soil; hence in different countries the food supply is often obtained from different sources, plants and animals, especially the former.

The function of food may be described as twofold:--1st, to afford material to replace what is spent in labour, physical or mental, muscular or brain; 2nd, to supply fuel which is spent in force.

A considerable proportion of our food, especially the fatty and starchy matters, after being digested and assimilated and stored up in the various tissues, is slowly burnt or oxidised by the oxygen which has been carried from the lungs by the blood; the fat is decomposed into carbonic acid and water, which are given off by the lungs and the kidneys and skin. By this oxidation, or burning, heat and force are generated to keep up the temperature of the body and keep the vital functions going, and to supply physical and mental energy, all the internal and external work of the body being performed by the combustion of the stored-up fat in the tissue. Hence the necessity of a regular and constant supply of food to warm the body, supply mental and physical energy, and repair the waste of the tissues. This brings us naturally to consider next whether this twofold function of food is performed by the same or any article of food. In some cases it is; but as most articles of food do not contain the substance required in suitable proportion to perform both these functions, we require to take more than one article of food to make up what the other lacks, and in this way we get a diet sufficient to fulfil both these functions. It is for this reason that articles of food, or their nutritive principle, have been classified according as they contribute especially to the growth and nutrition of the body, or to the production of heat and force, into two great classes:--(a) Heat-producers; (b) Flesh-formers, or non-nitrogenised and nitrogenised compounds.

(a) Heat-producing, or Non-nitrogenised. Sugar } { Carbon Starch } composed of { Hydrogen Gum } { Oxygen Oils and Fats }

(b) Flesh-forming, or Nitrogenised. { Carbon Albumen } { Hydrogen Gluten } { Nitrogen Fibrin } composed of { Oxygen Casein } { Sulphur and Legumin } { Phosphorus

Of these compounds those which contain nitrogen are used principally for building up the muscles, while those which contain no nitrogen are burnt up in the body to yield heat and force. The flesh-forming compounds are not obtained solely from animal food, as gluten and legumin are derived from the vegetable kingdom, from cereals and peas and beans respectively; while the heat-producers, with the exception of some oils and fats, are obtained solely from the vegetable kingdom. So that for perfect health our food must contain sufficient of both these two classes of compounds to repair the tissues, and to supply heat and force (the mineral substances being contained in these compounds, also partly supplied by the water we drink). As to the relative proportion in which they should be present in our food, there is no hard and fast line; this would be an impossibility unless we were to weigh and analyse every article we eat. We judge by experience what will satisfy the appetite and enable us to feel up to our work. Besides, it must vary considerably according to circumstances,--1st, the amount of work or exercise; 2nd, the climate. Thus physical or bodily exercise compels us to eat more than when idle, our increased hunger or appetite being nature’s method of indicating to our minds that our bodies require food to replace what has been expended in force and to repair the waste of the tissues. Then the colder the climate more food is required, especially of the heat-giving varieties, as more will be spent in keeping up the warmth of the body. Cold is also more conducive to physical work than warm weather, so that for this reason also more food is required in a cold climate.

The following table by Dr. Stevenson Macadam gives an idea of the relative amount of flesh-formers and heat-producers in certain articles of food, showing the amount of heat-producing elements they contain for every 10 parts of flesh-formers.

+----------------+---------------+----------------+ | | Flesh-forming.| Heat-producing.| |----------------+---------------+----------------+ | Rice | 10 | 123 | | Potatoes | 10 | 115 | | Barley | 10 | 57 | | Oatmeal | 10 | 50 | | Wheaten Flour | 10 | 44 | | Milk | 10 | 40 | | Fat Pork | 10 | 30 | | Fat Mutton | 10 | 27 | | Beans | 10 | 22 | | Beef | 10 | 17 | | Hare | 10 | 2 | | Veal | 10 | 1 | +----------------+---------------+----------------+

In the tropics, where little exercise can be taken, the waste of tissues is small, so that little nitrogenous food is required, and only a moderate amount of fat is taken; the need of heat-producers is comparatively small, so that starchy products, as millet and rice, are the principal articles of food. But gradually as we come north there is a marked increase both in the fatty and nitrogenous articles of food, until in the Arctic zone oily substances and animal food are the staple articles of existence, the amount of them that an Esquimaux will eat being something almost incredible, yet necessary to resist the severe cold.

The vegetable kingdom alone can supply all that is necessary for the human body both of flesh-forming and heat-producing substances, and we must not for a moment imagine that animal food is the only source of flesh-formers, as the world’s population is supported to a large extent on vegetable products, especially in tropical regions, while in colder climates, where vegetable products are hardly to be obtained, flesh and fat are indispensable. Thus man is clearly omnivorous; while men may be advantageously almost vegetarians in one climate, mixed eaters in another (as with us), and almost exclusively flesh eaters in a third, as in the Arctic regions. But there are some people who live exclusively on a vegetable diet (vegetarians) in our country, believing that such a diet is right in principle. Only those are true vegetarians who exclude milk, butter, eggs and cheese, as these are the very essence of animal food.

Man is capable of deriving all that is required for living and working from the animal or vegetable articles of food, either separately or combined. The question, therefore, is whether a purely vegetable diet or a mixed diet of vegetable and animal food is the better suited for our existence. To judge the question we have some facts to go upon. (1) We are so physically constructed as to be able to derive our nourishment from both animal and vegetable food. (2) In the Arctic regions hardly any vegetables are to be obtained. (3) Man alone has the intelligence to obtain food from all sources, and, by cooking, to render it fit for nourishment. It apparently follows, therefore, that while we are suited for either diet, or rather a combination of both, we may also select to some extent our diet according to our individual taste, habit of body, and other circumstances, as work and climate, experience having taught us that for the enjoyment of good health our diet must be regulated by the circumstances we have mentioned.

Nutritive values of Foods.--The following tables, based on those published by Letheby,[2] show the nutritive values (per lb.) of various food-stuffs, with their composition.

(a) ANIMAL FOOD-STUFFS.

+-------------------+---------+----------------+----------------+ | | Value | Carbon. | Nitrogen. | | | per lb. | | | +-------------------+---------+----------------+----------------+ | | d. | Grains per lb. | Grains per lb. | | Butter, fresh | 16 | 6456 | -- | | Butter, salt | 12 | 4585 | -- | | Lard | 9 | 4819 | -- | | Bacon, dry | 9 | 5987 | 95 | | Cheese, cheddar | 8 | 3344 | 306 | | Beef | 8 | 1854 | 184 | | Bacon, green | 8 | 5426 | 76 | | Suet | 7 | 4710 | -- | | Pork, fat | 7 | 4113 | 106 | | Dripping | 6 | 5456 | -- | | Mutton | 5 | 1900 | 189 | | Herrings, red | 4 | 1435 | 217 | | Cheese, skim | 3 | 1947 | 483 | | Liver, bullocks’ | 3 | 934 | 204 | | White fish | 2 | 871 | 195 | | Milk, new | 2 | 599 | 44 | | Milk, skimmed | 1 | 438 | 43 | | Buttermilk | ½ | 387 | 44 | | Whey | ½ | 154 | 13 | +-------------------+---------+----------------+----------------+

(b) VEGETABLE FOOD-STUFFS.

+-------------------+---------+----------------+----------------+ | | Value | Carbon. | Nitrogen. | | | per lb. | | | +-------------------+---------+----------------+----------------+ | | d. | Grains per lb. | Grains per lb. | | Sugar | 5 | 2955 | -- | | Cocoa | 4 | 3934 | 140 | | Oatmeal | 2 | 2831 | 136 | | Pearl barley | 2 | 2660 | 91 | | Rice | 2 | 2732 | 68 | | Flour, seconds | 1½ | 2700 | 116 | | Bread, bakers’ | 1½ | 1975 | 88 | | Rye meal | 1¼ | 2693 | 86 | | Peas, split | 1 | 2698 | 248 | | Maize meal | 1 | 3016 | 120 | | Barley meal | 1 | 2563 | 68 | | Carrots | 1 | 508 | 14 | | Parsnips | 1 | 554 | 12 | | Beer and porter | 1 | 274 | 1 | | Treacle | 1 | 2395 | -- | | Potatoes | ½ | 769 | 22 | | Turnips | ½ | 263 | 13 | | Vegetables, green | ½ | 420 | 14 | +-------------------+---------+----------------+----------------+

Digestibility of Foods.--There cannot be the least doubt that in the matter of digestion no rule holds good for all stomachs alike, and it is absurd to attempt to lay down a hard and fast line. At the same time, some idea of the relative period required to digest various substances may be gained from a study of the published results of experiments, though one very doubtful element is left out of the case altogether, namely, the quality of the cooking, which every one knows influences the digestibility of the food. The most complete list is that by Dr. Beaumont, from observation of the process in the stomach of a wounded soldier.

------------------------+---------------+------- Articles. | Preparations. | Time. | | h. m. ------------------------+---------------+------- Rice | Boiled | 1.0 Pigs’ feet, soused | Boiled | 1.0 Tripe, soused | Boiled | 1.0 Trout, salmon, fresh | Boiled | 1.30 ” ” ” | Fried | 1.30 Apples, sweet, mellow | Raw | 1.30 Venison, steak | Broiled | 1.35 Sago | Boiled | 1.45 Apples, sour, mellow | Raw | 2.0 Cabbage, with vinegar | Raw | 2.0 Codfish, cured, dry | Boiled | 2.0 Eggs, fresh | Raw | 2.0 Liver, beef, fresh | Broiled | 2.0 Milk | Boiled | 2.0 Tapioca | Boiled | 2.0 Milk | Raw | 2.15 Turkey, wild | Roasted | 2.18 ” ” | Boiled | 2.25 ” domesticated | Roasted | 2.30 Potatoes, Irish | Baked | 2.30 Parsnips | Boiled | 2.30 Pig, sucking | Roasted | 2.30 Meat hashed with | Warmed | 2.30 vegetables | | Lamb, fresh | Broiled | 2.30 Goose | Roasted | 2.30 Cake, sponge | Baked | 2.30 Cabbage-head | Raw | 2.30 Beans, pod | Boiled | 2.30 Custard | Baked | 2.45 Chicken, full-grown | Fricasséed | 2.45 Apples, sour, hard | Raw | 2.50 Oysters, fresh | Raw | 2.55 Bass, striped, fresh | Broiled | 3.0 Beef, fresh, lean, rare | Roasted | 3.0 ” steak | Broiled | 3.0 Corn-cake | Baked | 3.0 Dumpling, apple | Boiled | 3.0 Eggs, fresh | Boiled soft | 3.0 Mutton, fresh | Broiled | 3.0 Mutton, fresh | Boiled | 3.0 Pork, recently salted | Raw | 3.0 Soup, chicken | Boiled | 3.0 Oysters, fresh | Roasted | 3.15 Pork, recently salted | Broiled | 3.15 Pork, steak | Broiled | 3.15 Corn-bread | Baked | 3.15 Mutton, fresh | Roasted | 3.15 Carrot, orange | Boiled | 3.15 Sausages, fresh | Broiled | 3.20 Beef, fresh, lean, dry | Roasted | 3.30 Bread, wheat, fresh | Baked | 3.30 Butter | Melted | 3.30 Cheese, old, strong | Raw | 3.30 Eggs, fresh | Hard boiled | 3.30 ” ” | Fried | 3.30 Flounder, fresh | Fried | 3.30 Oysters, fresh | Stewed | 3.30 Potatoes, Irish | Boiled | 3.30 Soup, mutton | Boiled | 3.30 ” oyster | Boiled | 3.30 Turnip, flat | Boiled | 3.30 Beets | Boiled | 3.45 Corn, green, and beans | Boiled | 3.45 Pork, recently salted | Raw | 3.0 Beef, fresh, lean | Fried | 4.0 Fowls, domestic | Boiled | 4.0 ” ” | Roasted | 4.0 Veal, fresh | Broiled | 4.0 Soup, beef, vegetables | Boiled | 4.0 and bread | | Salmon, salted | Boiled | 4.0 Heart, animal | Fried | 4.0 Beef, old, hard, salted | Boiled | 4.15 Pork, recently salted | Fried | 4.15 Cabbage, with vinegar | Boiled | 4.30 Ducks, wild | Roasted | 4.30 Pork, recently salted | Boiled | 4.30 Suet, mutton | Boiled | 4.30 Veal, fresh | Fried | 4.30 Pork, fat and lean | Roasted | 5.15 Suet, beef, fresh | Boiled | 5.30 Tendon | Boiled | 5.30 ------------------------+---------------+-------

This may be compared with the following table of precedence in digestibility of some animal foods, on the authority of Chambers:--

Sweetbread and Lambs’ Trotters. Boiled chicken. Venison. Lightly Boiled Eggs, New Toasted Cheese. Roast Fowl, Turkey, Partridge, and Pheasant. Lamb, Wild Duck. Oysters, Periwinkles. Omelette (?), Tripe (?). Boiled Sole, Haddock, Skate, Trout, Perch. Tripe and Chitterlings. Mutton. Roast Beef. Boiled Beef. Rump Steak. Roast Veal. Boiled Veal, Rabbit. Salmon, Mackerel, Herring, Pilchard, Sprat. Hard-boiled and Fried Eggs. Wood Pigeon, Hare. Tame Pigeon, Tame Duck, Goose. Fried Fish. Roast and Boiled Pork. Heart, Liver, Lights, Milt, and Kidneys of Ox, Swine, and Sheep. Lobsters, Shrimps, Prawns. Caviare. Smoked, Dried, Salt, and Pickled Fish. Crab. Ripe Old Cheese.

The contradictions are sufficiently glaring.

From some recent experiments by Jessen it would seem that raw meat is more digestible than cooked, which is perhaps not astonishing when due allowance is made for the way in which that operation is often performed. Thus the times required for digestion were:

Raw beef, shaved fine 2 hours. ” mutton 2 ” ” veal 2½ ” Boiled beef, half done, shaved fine 2½ ” Raw pork 3 ” Boiled beef, well done, shaved fine 3 ” Roast beef, half done, shaved fine 3 ” Roast beef, well done, shaved fine 4 ”

Klenze, experimenting on 18 kinds of cheese, found that cheddar was digested in the shortest time (4 hours), while unripe skim Swiss cheese required 10 hours for solution. There is no difference in the digestibility of all sorts of hard cheese, or all soft cheese, but all fat cheeses are dissolved the most rapidly, because, being open by reason of the fat, they are the more readily attacked by the solvent. There is no connection between the digestibility and the percentage of water present in the cheese, but there is some connection with the percentage of fat and the degree of ripeness.

Animal Foods.--There is surely no need to insist on the value of animal foods. At the same time there can be no doubt of a general tendency among town dwellers to eat too much meat. Twice a day is quite often enough for a meat meal, and then it should not form more than about ⅕ of the whole meal. Fresh fish is an excellent and wholesome substitute for meat, especially in the case of brain workers. Cheese is highly nutritious, but digestible only by those living out of doors; this does not apply, however, to the soft cream-cheeses. Lard, dripping, butter, and even butterine or bosch, have great value as heat-producing foods.

Vegetable Foods.--Few people rightly estimate the true value of vegetables, apart, that is to say, from the starchy products of the vegetable kingdom, such as potatoes, sago, rice, &c. Many people hardly think of eating cabbage or spinach with their meat, yet there is no more wholesome food as an adjunct to the dinner table. The same may be said of many other vegetables. On the authority of the Medical Record, asparagus is a strong diuretic, and forms part of the cure for rheumatic patients at such health resorts as Aix-les-Bains. Sorrel is cooling, and forms the staple of that soupe aux herbes which a French lady will order for herself after a long and tiring journey. Carrots, as containing a quantity of sugar, are avoided by some people, while others complain of them as indigestible. With regard to the latter accusation, it may be remarked, in passing, that it is the yellow core of the carrot that is difficult of digestion--the outer, a red layer, is tender enough. In Savoy the peasants have recourse to an infusion of carrots as a specific for jaundice. The large sweet onion is very rich in those alkaline elements which counteract the poison of rheumatic gout. If slowly stewed in weak broth, and eaten with a little Nepaul pepper, it will be found to be an admirable article of diet for patients of studious and sedentary habits. The stalks of cauliflower have the same sort of value, only too often the stalk of a cauliflower is so ill-boiled and unpalatable that few persons would thank you for proposing to them to make part of their meal consist of so uninviting an article. Turnips, in the same way, are often thought to be indigestible, and better suited for cows and sheep than for delicate people; but here the fault lies with the cook quite as much as with the root. The cook boils the turnips badly, and then pours some butter over it, and the eater of such a dish is sure to be the worst for it. Try a better way. What shall be said about our lettuces? The plant has a slight narcotic action, of which a French old woman, like a French doctor, well knows the value, and when properly cooked is really very easy of digestion.

Fruits.--There are few who cannot enjoy fruit in one form or another. For diabetics only the least desirable kinds, as certain nuts and almonds, are available, all others, as containing sugar, being forbidden. Sufferers from acid dyspepsia must select carefully, and limit their consumption to the least irritating--a few strawberries or a few grapes. Diarrhœa and dysentery preclude the use of all fruit. On the other hand, for constipated persons it is sometimes the only trustworthy remedy which they can use continuously with comfort; it is also of benefit in renal diseases, by its action on the bowel. Atonic persons generally take it well, and feel the better for its digestive property Those in normal health may eat almost any ripe fruit. The bland varieties are the most wholesome and nutritious--strawberries, apples, pears, grapes, and gooseberries. The last named, however, with currants and raspberries, are less wholesome than the others. Stone-fruits are apt to disagree with the stomach; but the more watery, as peaches and large plums, are better than the smaller and drier, as apricots and damsons. The pulp of oranges renders them heavy. Among other foreign fruits, bananas are wholesome. Dried fruits and the skin of fruits in general are indigestible. Nuts, the edible part of which is really the seed, contain much albumen and some fat in a condensed form, and are particularly difficult of digestion. Fruit may be taken with a meal or on an empty stomach. In the former case it promotes digestion by its gently irritating effect on the mucous membrane of the stomach and intestine. If an aperient effect be desired, it had better be taken in the morning before breakfast or between meals. A succulent and pleasantly acid variety is best for both of these purposes, while it is also a food. The quantity of fruit which should be taken depends on the kind. If it belongs to the bland nutritious class, a healthy person may now and then partake of it as freely as of any other wholesome food; but he will gain most benefit if he take only a little, and take it regularly. The same may be said of the invalid with whom fruit agrees. Cooking removes much of the acidity from crude fruit, and renders it lighter as well as more palatable. So treated, it is productive of good and no harm; but it is a fundamental principle that whatever fruit is eaten uncooked must be fully ripe and not over-ripe. This may sound trite, and indeed the principle is commonly admitted, but not, it would seem, by all, for we still find people, and not a few, who will themselves deliberately take, and worse, will give to their children, green gooseberries, green apples, &c., the very hardness of which, apart from their acid pungency, suggest their unfitness for digestion. Such people use as food an acid irritant poison, whose necessary action is to cause excessive intestinal secretion, with more or less of inflammation. Hence arises diarrhœa. On the other hand, fruit which is over-ripe, in which fermentation has begun, is a frequent cause of this disorder, and equally to be avoided, and perhaps also more difficult to avoid because the insidious beginning of decay is not easily recognised. It should never be forgotten by any who incline to follow the season in their feeding, that the want of such precautions as the above may produce that dysenteric form of diarrhœa, “British cholera,” which is occasionally as rapidly fatal as the more dreaded Asiatic type of that disease. (Brit. Med. Jour.)

Bread and other Grain Foods.--Arguments on the bread question threaten to be endless, probably because the champions on both sides have just enough scientific knowledge to enable them to misstate the case. The most reasonable review of the whole circumstances is contained in one of Prof. Church’s papers in Nature. He deals first with variations in composition in the grain itself. These variations, chiefly affecting the percentage of nitrogen, depend upon hereditary qualities in different strains of the wheat-plant; upon climate and season: and, to some extent, but not so largely as is often stated, upon cultivation, soil, and manure. The hard translucent wheats, blés durs et glacés, are of high specific gravity, about 1·41, and, owing to their lengthened and wrinkled shape, of low weight per bushel; these wheats are rich in nitrogen. The soft opaque wheats, of less specific gravity, about 1·38, and, owing to their rounded and plump form, of high weight per bushel, are poor in nitrogen. The hard wheats grown in Poland, in Southern Russia, in Italy, and in Auvergne, are used in the manufacture of macaroni, vermicelli, semolina, and pâtés d’Italie. The softer and more starchy wheats are especially appropriate for the production of fine white flour. According to the most recent analyses, the percentage of nitrogen in different varieties and samples of air-dry wheat may range from 1·3 up to 2·5--numbers corresponding to 8·23 and 15·83, respectively, of gluten or flesh-forming substances. But the same variety of wheat may give a grain having 3 per cent. more gluten in a bad season than when matured in a fine summer. More than this, one may select from the same field, the same plant, or even the same ear, individual grains which shall show quite as wide a variation in gluten as that just cited.

Church next considers “how much flour and how much bran will 100 parts of ordinary soft wheat yield on the ordinary system of low-milling adopted in England?” As the averages from an immense number of independent estimates we may put down the flour at a total of 80, the bran at 17, and the loss at 3. Thus, from an economical point of view, we appear to lose ⅕, or 20 per cent., of our wheat by submitting it to the numerous treatments involved in the manufacture of flour. But is this really the case? We think not. For much of the nitrogen in the rejected parts is not in the form of flesh-forming matter, and much that does so exist in the bran passes unaltered and unused through the alimentary canal, because of its close incorporation with fibre. But on the other side we must not forget that bone-forming materials are clearly deficient in wheaten flour, and that those phosphatic compounds present in bran are readily soluble to a large extent, not only in the several digestive secretions with which they come in contact in the body, but also in pure water.

But in comparing and contrasting bread made from flour with that made from whole wheat, Church considers other points. We shall find it impossible to make, by means of leaven or yeast, a light spongy loaf from whole wheat finely ground, the so-called cerealin of the bran inducing chemical changes which result in a moist, clammy, dense product. Even whole wheat merely crushed into meal, and not ground, partakes of the same defect. Fine flour, on the other hand, yields a bread which is light enough before mastication, but which, when masticated, possesses a marked tendency to become compacted into dense lumps which may never become penetrated by the gastric and intestinal juices, and which are a frequent cause of constipation. Whole-meal bread cannot be charged with this defect; indeed it acts medicinally as a laxative, and by reason of its mechanical texture is hurried rather too quickly along the digestive track, so that the full virtue of such of its nutrients as are really soluble becomes in part lost. Yet there is no doubt that for many persons, especially those who have passed middle age and are engaged in sedentary occupations, whole wheaten meal in the form of bread, biscuits, scones, &c., forms an invaluable diet.

The following analysis may present some of the foregoing statements in a cleared light, and may add some additional particulars of interest. They represent, so far as a couple of sets of average results can do so, the percentage composition of ordinary white bread and of the whole-meal bread made by Hill and Son:--

---------------------------------------+--------+-------------- | White. | Whole meal. ---------------------------------------+--------+-------------- Water | 40·0 | 43·5 [a]Albuminoids or flesh-formers | 7·0 | [b]10·5 Starch, dextrin, and sugar | 50·7 | 40·6 Oil and fat | 0·6 | 1·6 Cellulose and lignose | 0·5 | 1·8 [c]Ash or mineral matter | 1·2 | 2·0 ---------------------------------------+--------+-------------- (Church.) [a] Calculated from total nitrogen present. [b] As much as 12·5 in some samples. [c] Includes common salt added.

Another writer who has worked out the facts arrives at closely similar conclusions. He sums up thus:--(a) The carbohydrates of bran are digested by man to but a slight degree. (b) The nutritive salts of the wheat grain are contained chiefly in the bran, and, therefore, when bread is eaten to the exclusion of other foods, the kinds of bread which contain these elements are the more valuable. When, however, as is usually the case, bread is used as an adjunct to other foods which contain the inorganic nutritive elements, a white bread offers, weight for weight, more available food than does one containing bran. (c) By far the major portion of the gluten of wheat exists in the central four-fifths of the grain, entirely independent of the cells of the fourth bran-layer (the so-called “gluten cells”). Further, the cells last named, even when thoroughly cooked, are little if at all affected by passage through the digestive tract of the healthy adult. (d) In an ordinary mixed diet, the retention of bran in flour is a false economy, as its presence so quickens peristaltic action as to prevent the complete digestion and absorption, not only of the proteids present in the branny food, but also of other foodstuffs ingested at the same time. (e) Inasmuch as in the bran of wheat as ordinarily roughly removed there is adherent a noteworthy amount of the true gluten of the endosperm, any process which in the production of wheaten flour should remove simply the three cortical protective layers of the grain would yield a flour at once cheaper and more nutritious than that ordinarily used.

On this same subject the Lancet remarks that bread which contains all the constituents of the wheat, except the outer, insoluble and irritating portion of the seed, seems, when the appetite for it has been obtained, to be more satisfying and digestible than the white and fashionable product which is found on most tables, of rich and poor alike. It is believed, too, that for children, the whole meal is the best for sustaining growth and for building up the skeleton strongly and in perfect form. The supply of whole-meal bread is now much facilitated by the improvements that have been introduced in the decorticated or granulated flour, to which Lady John Manners called public attention in her paper on Wheat-meal bread. In the decorticated whole meal the extreme outer coating of the wheat grain is, by a special process of abrading, to the perfection of which Dr. Morfit has rendered able service, cleverly removed. After the abrading process is completed, the whole of the grain is reduced to a fine flour, in which there is retained all the substances that are nutritious and digestible. Considering the fact that the whole-meal bread, when properly manufactured, is easily assimilated, we are led to the conclusion that it must be more nutritious generally than any other bread, in which starch predominates.

Oatmeal (Robinson’s for choice) is not adapted for making bread, but forms an excellent porridge--say 2 handfuls coarse oatmeal, 1½ pint water, well mixed, boiled ½ hour, and eaten with milk and treacle or brown sugar. The same may be said of Robinson’s Patent barley, which is wonderfully nutritious and adapted to youthful stomachs, besides being excellent in puddings (Keen, Robinson, and Co. are the makers).

Maize contains invaluable ingredients, and the preparation known as Brown and Polson’s corn-flour cannot be too extensively used, especially in custards and blancmanges.

Salt.--The Lancet publishes the following:--“We have received from a correspondent a letter making some inquiries into the use of salt, and we are given to understand that among other follies of the day some indiscreet persons are objecting to the use of salt, and propose to do without it. Nothing could be more absurd. Common salt is the most widely distributed substance in the body; it exists in every fluid and in every solid; and not only is it everywhere present, but in almost every part it constitutes the largest portion of the ash when any tissue is burnt. In particular it is a constant constituent of the blood, and it maintains in it a proportion that is almost wholly independent of the quantity that is consumed with the food. The blood will take up so much and no more, however much we may take with our food; and on the other hand, if none be given, the blood parts with its natural quantity slowly and unwillingly. Under ordinary circumstances a healthy man loses daily about twelve grains by one channel or the other, and if he is to maintain his health that quantity must be introduced. Common salt is of immense importance in the processes ministering to the nutrition of the body, for not only is it the chief salt in the gastric juice, and essential for the formation of bile, and may hence be reasonably regarded as of high value in digestion, but it is an important agent in promoting the processes of diffusion, and therefore of absorption. Direct experiment has shown that it promotes the decomposition of albumen in the body, acting probably by increasing the activity of the transmission of fluids from cell to cell. Nothing can demonstrate its value better than the fact that if albumen without salt is introduced into the intestine of an animal no portion of it is absorbed while it all quickly disappears if salt be added. If any further evidence were required it would be found in the powerful instinct which impels animals to obtain salt. Buffaloes will travel for miles to reach a “salt-lick”; and the value of salt in improving the nutrition and the aspect of horses and cattle is well known to every farmer. The popular notion that the use of salt prevents the development of worms in the intestine has a foundation in fact, for salt is fatal to the small threadworms, and prevents their reproduction by improving the general tone and the character of the secretions of the alimentary canal. The conclusion therefore is obvious that salt, being wholesome, and indeed necessary, should be taken in moderate quantities, and that abstention from it is likely to be injurious.”

Weather.--The weather should govern our diet as much as it does our clothing. In cold weather we require to enrich our blood and fatten our bodies. We should then eat heartily of substantial food and drink milk and cocoa. In hot weather, “the lightest possible food should be taken, and that in moderation. Very little tea or coffee, plenty of milk, with fish, and but little meat, and that well cooked, and a moderate indulgence in iced drinks are indicated. Spirits and heavy wines are, of course, interdicted. It should be known that frequent and excessive thirst is often aggravated by an injudicious consumption of ice. Such extreme thirst will often be immediately allayed by hot drinks, a fact which has been often verified. It cannot be too strongly insisted on that over-feeding and over-drinking (of any fluid whatever) are most pernicious, especially either before or after prolonged or considerable exertion. The principal meal of the day should be taken at sunset.” (Lancet.)

Lightness is the first essential alike in the food and drink taken in warm weather. There is then less work to be done, less waste of tissue, less need of the pre-eminently muscle-forming and heat-producing substances, meat and bread; and fruit, as being both palatable and easily obtainable, is much in use. Its advantages are that it provides a seasonable change of diet, light and wholesome if well chosen, and a palatable tonic and stimulant of digestion with aperient properties. (Brit. Med. Jour.)

Anti-fat Diet.--There is inconceivable folly in the fear of fatness. We do not for a moment deny that it is possible the organism may be too heavily packed with adipose tissue, and that the action of its several parts may be hampered by this encumbrance, while, as a whole, it is needlessly burdened; but this is a totally different matter from the fatness against which the fears of the multitude are for the most part unreasonably directed. There is not the least physiological connection between the accumulation of fat and fatty degeneration. As a matter of fact, what is known as “fatty degeneration” occurs more frequently in those who are lean than in those who are “fat” in a popular sense. It is therefore a misconception to suppose that fatness is in itself a disease. It only becomes morbid when, by mechanical pressure, fat impedes the functions of the organs, or by weight it unduly burdens the body so as to exhaust the strength or make too large a demand on the resources of force and vitality. Unfortunately, the true nature of the objections to fatness are not explained, and misconception is rather confirmed than removed by the prevailing mode of urging arguments against “fat” and in favour of remedies by which it is proposed to get rid of it. Practically speaking, it is idle to suppose that fatness can be certainly prevented by dieting. There are many ways of fat-making, and those persons who have a tendency to its production will make fat however they are fed--in truth, almost as rapidly on one class of diet as on another. There are idiosyncrasies which may in a limited number of instances be taken advantage of to check the tendency to form fat, but these specialties of chemico-nutritive function are by no means common; and, speaking generally, it must be said that, except by starving the body as a whole, fatness cannot be prevented. The exceptions to this rule are chiefly such as may be explained on the principle of a special tissue appetite. Thus, for example, a man whose muscular system has been healthily developed somewhat in excess of the other parts of his organism may have what might be called a muscular-tissue appetite of such voracity that it will, so to say, seize upon the bulk of the nutriment supplied to the blood, and make muscle regardless of what may be left for the nutrition of nerves, &c. Such a person will lose fat without growing thin, so far as muscle is concerned, by a mere reduction of diet, without reference to the kind of food cut off, so that the latter do not chance to be essential to muscle nutrition. In the same way, though with different results, a “nervous” person, in the popular sense--that is, an individual whose nervous system is in perpetual activity, working incessantly and feeding voraciously--may consume so much of the food supplied for the body as a whole that only nervous tissue is nourished, and the rest of the body languishes. This is an instance of growing thin while feeding well, and it is the converse of the process by which, in another class of persons, growth of muscle persists in spite of a reduced diet. There are, in this way, persons whose specialty it is to make adipose tissue, and they will wax fat even when muscles, nerves, and the higher organisation are relatively in a condition approaching starvation. These and a score of other matters have to be taken into account when calculating the probabilities--or rather the improbabilities--of success in the endeavour to diminish the fatness of any individual by a system of dieting. As regards the use of drugs against fats, setting aside such obvious modes as robbing the blood of its proper nutriment by purging and nauseating, we do not believe it is practicable to prevent the formation of adipose tissue or even to promote an elimination of fat by the use of medicines, unless it be by correcting some error in the chemico-vital processes of the organic economy, to which a particular remedy may, as a temporary expedient in here and there a suitable case, be intelligently directed. Measures against fatness are, from the very necessities of the enterprise and the conditions under which it must be carried out in the great majority of instances, predestined to failure. It would save a deal of disappointment, and a great many incidental injuries to health might be avoided, if these facts could be more generally understood; and we think medical practitioners generally may be fairly asked to state and explain them. (Lancet.)

Diet for Night-work.--For night-workers, the best plan includes a hearty breakfast when they rise, which is generally between 12 and 3 o’clock; some outdoor exercise and relaxation should precede a good dinner, partaken between 6 and 9 o’clock at night, before beginning work. If the work is to continue until 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning, a light but nutritious repast should be eaten shortly after midnight, in order to fortify the system for labour during the hours immediately following, when the vital powers are most enfeebled. When the work is done, and before retiring, a very simple lunch should be taken in the form of good hot broth or beef tea, or a glass of light wine and a couple of biscuits. This will generally ensure sleep by withdrawing blood from the brain, where it has been concentrated by mental effort. In ordinary cases of sleeplessness, not confirmed by long-continued habit, a light meal of this kind will generally prove a remedy.

Diet for Children.--The great mortality of infants in this country is due to improper feeding. The following simple rules should be attended to. If the child can be nursed by the mother, give it nothing else for six months. If it cannot be so reared, give 1-1½ pint of good milk every day for the first 6 months, and 1½-2½ pints, with the addition of barley-water, or a teaspoonful or two of corn flour, till a year old. Take care that the milk is good and the bottles clean. As it gets its teeth, give it small quantities of more solid food, but do not indulge it in everything that comes to table. Growing children require a due proportion of meat.

With regard to condensed milk, it contains much less flesh-forming material than is generally supposed. Taking four per cent. for cow’s milk as a fair average, the directions on the can, if followed out, give unexpected results. For children’s use, we are told to dilute the condensed milk with 4 or 5 parts of water. Taking the lowest figure, we should then have 5 parts of diluted condensed milk which, according to Dr. Stutzer, would only contain 1·76 per cent. of flesh-formers, instead of 4 per cent., while the milk sugar would be increased from 4·5 to 10·85 per cent. We know that woman’s milk contains more sugar than cow’s, but still not in the above surprising proportions. Now that so much canned milk is used for infants brought up by hand, it becomes a question how far mothers who cannot suckle their children are responsible for the health and even lives of their children by giving them milk from the tin instead of that from the living animal.

Diet for underfed Subjects.--The following remarks are derived from Dr. Hodge’s essay before referred to.

As a stomach may become over-distended and permanently dilated by long gluttony or by the accumulated ingesta which a slow and feeble peristalsis refuses to move on, so may it also become contracted from the habitual want of sufficient victualling, sometimes to such a degree that the introduction of enough food can only be accomplished after the gradual dilatation of its receptacle. This may be effected by increasing the frequency of meals. The custom, common in America, of leaving a long interval between them is the reverse of that desirable for those who require extra feeding. The ordinary European arrangement adopts a system which is worthy of imitation, a “little and often” being the motto of the eater. It is useless to attempt too much at one time. The stomach conforms slowly, and rebels at a certain limit, but a brief respite and a short intermission put it in a less antagonistic attitude. If, for the reasons given, or from mere disinclination, 2 meals have been all which the subject under treatment declares can be “got down,” as is often the case, then 3 must be taken or the time between successive feedings shortened to 2 hours, according to the aggregate amount of nourishment intended to be given and the readiness with which its forced consumption is effected. It is an advantage, therefore, that certain periods of the day, not precisely fixed, but approximate, should be established as meal times. For instance, before rising, at the usual breakfast hour, in the middle of the forenoon, at the accustomed luncheon, in the middle of the afternoon, at the regular dinner, and on going to bed.

It is a common impression that to take food immediately before going to bed and to sleep is unwise. Such a suggestion is answered by a reminder that the instinct of animals prompts them to sleep as soon as they have eaten; and in summer an after-dinner nap, especially when that meal is taken at midday, is a luxury indulged in by many. Neither darkness nor season of the year alters the conditions. If the ordinary hour of the evening meal is 6 or 7 o’clock, and of the first morning meal 7 or 8 o’clock, an interval of 12 hours, or more, elapses without food, and for persons whose nutrition is at fault this is altogether too long a period for fasting. That such an interval without food is permitted explains many a restless night, and much of the head and back ache, and the languid, half-rested condition on rising, which is accompanied by no appetite for breakfast. This meal itself often dissipates these sensations. It is, therefore, desirable, if not essential, when nutriment is to be crowded, that the last thing before going to bed should be the taking of food. Sleeplessness is often caused by starvation, and a tumbler of milk, if drunk in the middle of the night, will often put people to sleep when hypnotics would fail of their purpose. It should be borne in mind that a full bladder is a frequent cause of early morning wakefulness. Rising and passing water will often send restless sleepers back to bed for a refreshing nap, which, without relief from this source of reflex irritation, would not have occurred.

Food before rising is an equally important expedient. It supplies strength for bathing and dressing, laborious and wearisome tasks for the underfed, and is a better morning “pick-me-up” than any hackneyed “tonic.”

Skilful feeding by a nurse who recognises the art which may be exhibited in coaxing food into the stomach is often of advantage. Food thus administered must be introduced in large mouthfuls. Every gourmet knows how necessary this is for the satisfaction of the palate, and the correctness of the fact is substantiated by reason and by analogy. Well-shaped wisely-seasoned, large morsels make a relishing and appetising mouthful, inviting repetition. In divided bits they quickly satiate or excite repugnance. By this epicurean method the stomach is rapidly and persuasively charged with a sufficient supply of nourishment, as it never can be by the feeble pickings of an apathetic eater.

In cases where food is urgently called for, its artificial introduction is an easy and beneficial manœuvre. It does not require a stomach tube, and has but little resemblance to the procedure resorted to with the insane. It may be practised with insignificant discomfort by means of a soft rubber catheter, not exceeding a No. 12 in size, fitted to a small glass funnel, into which the nutriment is poured, or it may be sent through the tube by a Davidson’s syringe. The catheter need enter but a short distance into the œsophagus. If no resistance be offered, the operation can be performed by almost any one, even by the patient himself. Milk, cream, broth, eggs, and homogeneous liquids are thus readily deposited, and to the desired extent, in the stomachs of those disinclined to eat.

The number of females, especially those who “do their own work,” whose food consists almost wholly of bread and tea is very large. How inadequately they are nourished is shown by the statement that, in order to get the required amount of aliment, persons who eat nothing else must consume about 4 lb. of bread. As this is so much more than any one can dispose of with comfort, the practice of eating butter with bread is almost universal. This not only meets the necessity for a heat-producing, non-nitrogenous food; but the unattractive character of dry bread as an eatable is compensated for by the relish of a savoury addition. In proportion as the use of butter is increased, the requisite quantity of bread may be decreased. To eat “more butter than bread” should not therefore be the reproach to growing children which it is often made, and the large amount of the former which may be profitably disposed of by the underfed, without “disturbing their stomachs,” is not surprising if the process by which oleaginous substances are taken into the system is recalled. “Fat, butter, and oily matter in general require no digestion; the emulsion into which they are mechanically converted, chiefly by the pancreatic and duodenal secretions, passes (almost directly) into the general circulation of the blood.” For reasons similar to those which make cream and butter such useful articles of diet, and because the habitual food of insufficient eaters is so lacking in fatty matter, cod-liver oil has acquired its well-deserved place among therapeutic and alimentary agents.

The tendency of those whose appetite is deficient to lay great stress upon their readiness to take food which does not require mastication makes them willing consumers of soup. And yet of all articles entering into the common dietary soups are perhaps the most deceptive, and certainly the most important to discountenance with the underfed. They fill up the stomach at the expense of solid, “staying” nourishment, and contain so little in the way of sustenance that they are therapeutically almost worthless. As a rule they are but some form of meat tea, and are now known to have a food value not unlike that which wine would possess, and which they resemble chemically. “They may have on the system a stimulant action somewhat analogous to theine. They may render more prompt and efficacious the assimilation of any wholesome food with which they may be associated, and they may even give so effective a fillip to an exhausted system as to enable it to dispense for a time with real food; but it is clear that they must not be looked to for direct nutrition.”

Broths, however--that is, soups which contain large quantities of solid matter, disintegrated meat, vegetables, macaroni, vermicelli, pâté d’Italie, rice, barley, sago, tapioca, &c.--are often, and in proportion to the consistency thus given, excellent alimentation. They are palatable and easily consumed in considerable quantities at a time. Soupe à la Reine purée de gibier, various vegetable purées, chowder of fish, bisques of oyster, clam, lobster, are illustrations of the perfection of this kind of cookery. That they may be what is sometimes called “rich” is no objection. The digestive powers of the underfed are usually good, though the owners of them may not think so. They are apt to be active and ravenous, even if the appetite is not.

The meat from which soup is made, allowed to become cold, should be compounded to a paste in a mortar, and then returned to the soup. Veal, pigeon, and rabbit are especially adapted to this procedure. “French” cooks prefer to make “chicken broth” from rabbit.

Notwithstanding its capacity to digest, there is, invariably, something repulsive to an insensible stomach in what are conventionally called “roasted joints.” This antipathy, together with considerations of convenience as regards the size of portions to be cooked, makes it almost imperative, for protesting but frequent eaters, that meats should be either broiled or stewed; and steaks of various kinds, chops, cutlets, chicken, game, some kinds of fish, and shell-fish become, therefore, the only really available resources of the caterer of an ill-ordered appetite. And yet no more difficult undertaking can be given non-hungry patients than that of eating beefsteak. Apart from its somewhat uncertain quality, nothing requires more mastication, and the class named always declare that there is no item of food of which they are already more “tired.” Any other variety of meat--mutton, veal, venison, &c.--cooked in the form of steak is more readily eaten. The short, compact fibre of mutton chops, especially those from the loin, makes them less likely than beefsteak to be badly cooked, and far easier to be consumed. Well-selected, carefully-cut lamb chops, in their proper season, are a delicacy of the highest order, and rarely fail to be appreciated by the most benumbed eater.

Meats stewed, or semi-stewed, and then partially browned in the oven (braised, as it is called in the language of cookery), are attractive and submissive preparations, and this method of cooking is an excellent one for purveying small portions of animal food. In the various forms and denominations of stewing and braising, the cordon bleu finds scope for the highest aspirations of culinary art.

They impart an appetising flavour to viands cooked to extreme tenderness, the perfection of these methods being found in their application to sweetbread--a costly luxury, but an article which, by its slight demand for mastication and its nutritious qualities, is peculiarly adapted to the requirements of an invalid eater. Others of the viscera, besides the pancreas, and the thymus gland--namely, the brains, the liver, the kidneys, the testicles of lambs, successfully lend themselves to this process of cookery, and like calves’ heads, pigs’ feet, and sheep’s tongues, are converted into delicate and easily-assimilated nutriment for those who are ignorant of, or can overcome, the associations which they suggest.

Of various mechanical processes available for rendering food easily eaten, preparatory mincing offers great advantages, and is particularly applicable to chicken and veal. A common and attractive method of serving both in the form of minced meat is that of croquettes, which are most easily prepared by the aid of Lovelock’s mincing machine.

Dr. Hodges does not hesitate to assert that of all the modes in which minced meat may be presented, the calumniated and much-libelled sausage is, in winter time, one of the most useful and successful articles for frequent feeding. Lean and fat meats, more digestible together than separately, are discriminately mixed in the compact and appetising form of this ubiquitous and popular comestible, the sole secret of whose easy digestion is that it should not be eaten except when it has become thoroughly cold after cooking. Bread and butter can be tolerated with complete immunity when hot buttered toast would provoke exasperating dyspepsia, and it is exactly thus that sausage cold stands in relation to that which is served hot. Presenting the albuminates and fat in an economical, savoury form, easily obtained and made ready for consumption, sausage, in some countries, might almost be said to have become a national food, and it offers to the fastidious or indifferent eater an article of diet from which great benefit may be derived. A trial of this stigmatised edible will be followed by a ready recognition of its alimentary value in the class of cases under consideration.

As has been remarked already, food, to be taken outside the conventional meal hours, must be of a kind easily obtained anywhere, readily “kept in the house,” and which does not demand preparation or delay. Few persons can command the services of a “professed cook,” or of a good “plain” cook, or have either at their disposal every two hours in the day. The practical articles of diet which meet these restricted requirements of convenience are few, and of these the chief in importance are eggs, milk, cream, butter, and bread.

“Raw albumen is one of the most digestible of foods; coagulated, it is comparatively indigestible.” Eggs, to be easily digested, must be eaten uncooked, since albumen under prolonged heat acquires progressive degrees of toughness. Eggs should not be cooked by boiling, but by placing them in hot water, and allowing them to remain there for 7-10 minutes.

When cooked, buttered, salted, and peppered, they are soon tired of as articles of food, and alleged to be “bilious.” Cooking, moreover, involves waiting and preparation. An uncooked egg is always ready and at hand, is clean to be kept anywhere, and scarcely needs to be broken into a glass. With a little knack it may be swallowed direct from the shell, as most persons know if in childhood they have had access to country barns. A raw egg weighs 2-2¼ oz., and is said to contain about the same flesh-forming and heat-giving material as an equal amount of butcher’s meat. It offers in perfection the quickest and neatest mode of taking a large equivalent of substantial and nutritious food at a swallow. Beaten-up eggs are a certain provocative of dyspepsia. When subjected to this process, an inviting draught of creamy froth is brought to the unfortunate recipient--a tumblerful of air, which has been introduced in the largest possible amount to a given quantity of egg, milk, wine, sugar, and nutmeg--than which nothing could be better devised to promote indigestion, abominable eructations, and the most uncomfortable flatulence or acidity. Every beer drinker has the good sense to blow off the “head” of his mug of beer, or to wait patiently for the froth to subside, before he imbibes the draught; and if crotchety persons will not learn the trick of swallowing an egg whole, they can compromise the difficulty by slowly stirring the white and the yolk, which may be thus mixed together, and made to seem a less revolting dose without the incorporation of air by beating. Taken as a medicine, and looked upon as such, eggs are at least equally palatable with cod-liver oil, for which they offer an equivalent substitute, adapted to winter or summer, as the latter hardly is, and far more rapidly digested. There is no limit to the number which may be taken with advantage continuously and for months at a time. Eighteen eggs are required to furnish the flesh-forming materials and other nutrients sufficient for the various needs of an adult man in one day.

Milk and cream are convenient, and therefore important and desirable articles of food. It is a common assertion of patients that milk “always disagrees with them”--that they have “never been able to take it.” This statement, which, as a rule, may safely be attributed to mere prejudice, is also in some cases a true one, simply for the reason that the milk is drunk too rapidly, or because it is not rich enough, an easy remedy being to take the given quantity more slowly, or to increase by addition the amount of cream which the milk naturally possesses, the trouble being due, in the first instance, to the fact that a large and solid cheese curd is suddenly formed in the stomach by the rapidity with which the milk is deposited in that organ, and in the second, to the hardness of the casein derived from milk with an insufficient percentage of cream, which is always inconstant in amount (varying between 10 and 15 per cent.) or in composition, the water alone ranging from 45 to 65 per cent. Milk is often too poor, but never too rich, for purposes of enforced nutrition, and the fact is incontrovertible that it is the model food for digestibility.

By adding cream to milk the amount of fat is increased and the curd is softened; and its digestion can be still further facilitated by the disintegration of its coagula, accomplished by crumbling in bread, cracker, &c., or by the addition of a small amount of cooked meal or flour.

By this latter means cold milk is made warm, which gives it an increased efficacy. This end may also be attained and the distastefulness of warm milk removed by flavouring it with the preparations of cocoa, weak coffee, or some of the inert substitutes for the latter sold by grocers, the best of which perhaps is that known as “New Era coffee,” consisting simply of roasted and ground wheat. But, as hot milk demands a certain amount of trouble, cold milk alone, or with bread broken into it, is, after all, the only practical resource so far as its use for frequent nutriment is concerned; and 2 qt. of milk, or 3 pints of milk and 1 pint of cream, are not more than the minimum quantity desirable for ingestion in 24 hours. Clear cream may be administered in doses of a wineglassful after each meal, as any other medicine might be, and a great deal can be disposed of by eating it liberally added to cooked fruit and various dessert dishes.

Blanc mange, Italian cream, and the various forms in which many delicate farinaceous articles are cooked, may thus be made more eatable through the zest given them by this accompaniment. There is a great difference in the palatableness as well as digestibility of cream which is obtained from milk by centrifugal force, as is largely done for the market, and that which is skimmed after “setting.” This distinction should be borne in mind in prescribing cream which is to be taken uncooked. The last-named product is by far the more desirable article.

Very few patients, especially women, drink a sufficiency of water to maintain their health or an adequate nutrition. Water is an important constituent of food, is, indeed, the carrier of food into and through the system, and forms more than ⅔ of the whole body. Neglect to keep up the supply of water leads to a diminution in the quantity of blood, and lessens the body’s strength.

When it is remembered that there are daily eliminated 18-32 oz. of water from the skin by perspiration, 11 oz. from the lungs, and 50 oz. from the kidneys, it is easy to see that the amount consumed by many persons falls short of the demand, and that their bodies must be insufficiently supplied with the requisite degree of moisture; some 66 oz. of water alone, and in tea, coffee, beer, &c., being required for a daily supply over and above that which is contained in the solid food of a full ration to make good the average regular waste. The constipation which is so common in ill-nourished persons is largely due to a want of liquid in the intestinal canal. This, therefore, will be ameliorated by the free use of water, as is also the constipating tendency of milk, which is sometimes complained of, the curds being liquefied and reduced in size, and thereby made more readily digestible. Its effect on hardened fæcal masses or accumulated mucus in the intestines is equally obvious, and explains in part the intention as well as the success of the hot-water craze at present so popular.

The underfed are benefited, and the process of feeding is helped, by alcohol. But the amount of alcohol which such persons may take as a food adjunct with advantage is very small. The cumulative effects of a medicinal dose at stated intervals are of greater utility than the more instant result of a larger allowance swallowed in a single drink. A measure of alcohol which produces an effect quickly--that is, which flushes the face, or exhilarates, as a sherry-glass of wine does with most females, for instance--is a toxic dose, and will be followed by reaction. It is a quantity short of this which is allowable. A teaspoonful, or at most a dessertspoonful, three or four times a day, is usually as much as can be borne without such sequelæ as are above alluded to.

Spirits serve their purpose better than wine, for the reason that the relative quantity of alcohol administered is more measurable. Wines vary in strength; spirits are comparatively uniform. Tinctures even, or elixirs, may be given when spirits are objected to either on principle or from prejudice. In any case there should be a large dilution with water, as a more gradually stimulating effect is thus produced. Alcoholic medicines ought never to be taken on an empty stomach.

Great pains should be taken to discountenance everything which reduces the bodily heat, and employments or amusements which in any sense tax the strength ought to be abandoned when a forced diet is attempted. Even ordinary exercise is often objectionable, and its complete discontinuance sometimes so important that confinement to bed is a necessity. Those who raise animals are practically made aware that a restless disposition is fatal to successful growth in vigour and flesh. The truthfulness of this observation is equally apparent with human beings who need “building up” in the literal sense of these remarks.

Mere fattening is not the object of full feeding, but it is to a certain extent its necessary accompaniment. The motive of the measure, as has already been stated, is to add to the quantity and quality of the blood, and it is hardly possible for an individual to grow fat without a decided increase in the volume of his blood. Weighing at stated intervals is therefore an important procedure, and there is no other way to make sure that the subjects of treatment are sufficiently well fed to gain blood. Persons who put on fat rarely fail to improve in colour; their comfort is enhanced; warmth of body is gained, in itself no slight improvement; the pulse becomes fuller; the cheeks grow redder; the spirits are raised; the general mien becomes brighter; and these phenomena are explainable only by admitting that there has been an accession to their stock of blood. The scales thus become a thermometer of improving health and strength, by the aid of which the physician measures the progressive results of his regimen. Like the “pass book” used at banks, they reveal in a ready and serviceable way the healthful standing of an individual, the relation of his resources to the wear and tear checks which he is continually drawing, and whether his account is nearly or quite overdrawn, or superfluously plethoric. They ought not to be put into requisition too frequently, and only when there is reason to think that an encouraging increase of weight has taken place. This should manifest itself soon after systematic feeding has begun, and continue at the rate of 2 lb. a week, and not less than 1 lb., so long as improvement seems desirable, or until a weight has been reached, the minimum of which shall be equivalent to 2 lb. for each inch of stature.

Experience and observation have universally confirmed the expediency of a heartier and more systematised diet than recently prevailed. Its utilitarian advantages are publicly recognised. Within twenty years the rations of armies, of institutions, charitable, penal, and medical, have been liberally increased. Family habits in regard to eating, since the flush times of the civil war, have greatly changed, and the large allowance of food requisite for the maintenance of a sound health can scarcely be exaggerated in any statement of its details. In the application of this accepted dogma to special and personal cases there is much, however, still left to be desired. (R. M. Hodges.)

Drinks.--There are physiological facts in relation to drinking which ought to be recalled by those who know them, and brought to the knowledge of the unskilled in medicine, because they concern the promotion of health. Thus it is essential that there should be constantly passing through the organism a flushing, as it were, of fluid, to hold in solution and wash away the products of disassimilation and waste. Those who do not recognise the fact that ¾ of the entire organism is normally composed of fluid cannot fully realise the great need which exists for a copious supply. If there be not a sufficient endosmose, the exosmose must be restricted, and effete matters, soluble in themselves, but not dissolved because of the deficiency of fluid available, will be retained. Take, for example, the uric acid; this excrementitious product requires not less than 8000 times its bulk of water at the temperature of the blood to hold it in solution; and if it be not dissolved it rapidly crystallises, with more or less disastrous consequences, as in gout, gravel, and probably many other less well-recognised troubles. We only mention this particular excrement by way of illustration. In all, it may be fairly concluded that not less than 3½ pints should be consumed by any person in the 24 hours, and when the body is bulky 4 or even 5 pints should be the average. It is, moreover, desirable that the fluid thus taken should be in the main either pure water, or water in which the simplest extracts are held in solution.

So far as the mere sensation of thirst is concerned, there can be no question that it is a mistake to drink too much or too frequently in hot weather; the fluid taken in is very rapidly thrown out again through the skin in the form of perspiration, and the outflow being promoted by this determination toward the surface, a new and increasing demand for fluid follows rapidly on the successive acts of drinking and perspiring, with the result that “thirst” is made worse by giving way to it. Meanwhile, it must not be forgotten that thirst is Nature’s call for fluid to replace that lost by cutaneous exudation in warm weather; and if the demand be not met, what may be regarded as the residual fluid of the tissues must be absorbed, or the blood will become unduly concentrated. To thirst and drink, and perspire and drink again, are the natural steps in a process by which Nature strives to maintain the integrity of those organic changes which the external heat has a tendency to impede. The natural and true policy is to supply an adequate quantity of fluid without excess. Therefore do not abstain from drinking, but drink slowly, so as to allow time for the voice of Nature to cry “Enough.” There is no drink so good as pure water. For the sake of flavour, and because the vegetable acids are useful, a dash of lemon-juice may be added with advantage. The skin should be kept fairly cool, so that a sufficient quantity of the fluid taken may pass off by the kidneys.

Sufferers from certain common forms of indigestion forget the immediate effect of loading the stomach with cold drinks. If hot drinks are sometimes debilitating to the organ of digestion, cold drinks are certainly not always bracing, but, on the contrary, are often depressing. It is especially desirable to remember this fact when the weather is more than commonly lowering to the nervous tone of the organism. Even though the fluid taken may be what is called stimulating, the consequence of its being cold is to chill the gastric organ and depress the nerve centres, whence it derives its supply of nervous force. The peculiar form of indigestion now very prevalent, in which food is retained an unreasonable time in the stomach, with the result of flatulence, and it may be of irritative reaction on the part of the nerves of the viscus, and neuralgic pain as a consequence, is in a large proportion of instances the direct effect of persistent chilling of the gastric organ by copious draughts of cold drink. It is recognised that cold drinks are dangerous in very hot weather, acting as irritants, but it is not, apparently, understood that the mischief they do as depressants may be even greater, and that this effect is to be especially dreaded when the weather is itself depressing by cheerless or unseasonable cold. (Lancet.)

Water.--When fluid taken “as drink” is itself heavily charged with solid matter, it cannot fairly be expected to so entirely rid itself of this burden in the process of digestion and absorption as to be available for solvent purposes generally, although the separation between solid and fluid ingredients of the food is doubtless fairly complete in the processes preparatory to assimilation. The aim should, nevertheless, be to supply the organic needs in this particular abundantly, and with such fluids as are not overloaded with solids, but simple and readily available as solvents. Another urgent reason for drinking freely of bland fluids is to be found in the need of diluents. This is something slightly different from mere solution. Many of the solids of the tissue waste are of a nature to irritate and even disorganise the kidney, if they be brought to that organ for excretion in too concentrated form. There is no reason to suppose that the kidneys are liable to suffer from over-work if the specific secreting power of the kidney cells be not too heavily taxed. If only the products of disassimilation be diluted, so that they can be passed through the kidney by the simple process of exosmosis, the organ will discharge its function without injury or exhaustion. As a matter of fact and experience, those who drink innocuous and unstimulating fluids freely do not suffer from kidney trouble, but are almost uniformly healthy--at least, so far as the excreting functions are concerned. It is a popular fallacy that the kidneys may and ought to be relieved by the determination of fluid to the surface of the body and perspiration. Except in cases of organic disease of the kidney, or where, as in the elimination of a special product, it is desirable to use the skin as an emunctory, the fluid diverted from the kidney is wasted so far as flushing purposes are concerned.

But if water be the drink, how shall it be drunk? The means must have regard to the end required of them. To moisten food and prepare it for digestion it is hardly necessary to say that it should be taken with a meal; a couple of tumblerfuls at dinner is not an excessive quantity for most persons. For thirst-quenching properties nothing can surpass this simplest of drinks, and all which approach it in efficacy owe their power almost entirely to it. As to temperature, there is no real ground for supposing that one should not drink a sufficiency of cold water when the body is heated by exertion. The inhabitants of hot climates have no such objection. Some tropical wells are dug so deep that the water within them, even in hot seasons, is as cool as that of a European spring. In fevers, too, the use of ice in quantities sufficient to allay thirst is a part of rational and legitimate treatment. The shock which has to be avoided in all such states is not that which cools the mucous membrane, but that of sharp chill applied to the surface of the body. Some persons, however, find it convenient and beneficial to imbibe a certain amount of warm water daily, preferably at bedtime. They find that they thus obtain a bland diluent and laxative, without even the momentary reaction which follows the introduction of a colder fluid, and softened by abstraction of its calcareous matter in the previous process of boiling. This method, which is an accommodation to jaded stomachs, has its value for such, though it is not great even for them; but it affords no noticeable advantage for those of greater tone. The use of water as an aid to excretion deserves some remark. In certain cases of renal disease it has been found to assist elimination of waste by flushing, without in any way irritating the kidneys. Every one is probably aware of its similar action on the contents of the bowel when taken on the old-fashioned but common-sense plan of drinking a glass of water regularly morning and evening, without any solid food. Whatever may be true of harmless luxuries, enough has been said to show that health, happiness, and work find stimulus enough in the unsophisticated well of nature. The quality of water may be judged by its fauna and flora. It is a standing fact that water containing neither fish nor molluscs is unfit for drinking purposes. The presence of the common watercress (Nasturtium officinale) in a stream is sufficient evidence of the potability of the water; on the other hand, always avoid the water of a stream in which the duckweed or water lentil (Lemna minor) is found.

Tea.--Warm infusion of tea has been proved to have a marked stimulant and restorative action upon the brain and nervous system, and this effect is not followed by any secondary depression. It further increases the action of the skin, and raises the number of the pulse, while it has but little effect upon urination, excepting simply as a watery diuretic. It tends to lessen the action of the bowels. Dr. Parkes found that tea is most useful as an article of diet for soldiers. The hot infusion is a patent protective against extremes both of heat and of cold; and Sir Ranald Martin proved it to be particularly valuable in great fatigue, especially in hot climates. But the habit of tea-drinking is one that grows on its victims like the similar ones of opium or alcohol. Taken in strict moderation, and with due precautions in the mode of preparation, tea is, like alcohol, a valuable stimulant; in its abuse there is also a certain analogy. There is hardly a morbid symptom which may not be traceable to tea as its cause. This is a fact that general practitioners often use to their own satisfaction and to their patient’s advantage, if it happen to be that kind of patient who does not object to make some sacrifice in order to be rid of troubles. The alkaloid which tea contains appears to be less easily absorbed than that of coffee, owing to the very large quantity of tannic acid present. The tannic acid in tea is doubtless one of the causes why it is as a drink so attractive. It is slightly astringent and clean in the mouth, and does not “cloy the palate.” Tannic acid is also one of the dangers and drawbacks of tea. It is largely present in the common teas used by the poor. The rich man who wishes to avoid an excess of tannic acid does not allow the water to stand on the tea for more than 5, or at most 8 minutes, and the resulting beverage is aromatic, not too astringent and wholesome. The poor man or poor woman allows the tea to simmer on the hob for indefinite periods, with the result that a highly astringent and unwholesome beverage is obtained. There can be no doubt that the habit of drinking excessive quantities of strong astringent tea is a not uncommon cause of that atonic dyspepsia, which seems to be the rule rather than the exception among poor women. A word in reference to the now prevalent custom of dining late, and taking an afternoon tea. “Unless cautiously arranged, it is apt to produce dyspepsia. The rule should be that the tea should precede dinner by 3 hours, and not come sooner after lunch than 3 hours, supposing the lunch to have been a good meal; and that if any tea or coffee is taken after dinner, it ought to be immediately after, so as to constitute part of the same meal, and to partake in the same process of digestion. It is most injurious to take tea or coffee 1-2 hours after dinner, or any other full meal.” (Dobell.)

Coffee.--Coffee, like tea, when used as an article of diet, especially affects the nervous system. It is a brain and nerve stimulant; in very large doses, it produces tremors. It increases the action of the skin, and it appears to have a special power in augmenting the urinary water. It increases both the force and frequency of the pulse. Unlike tea, it tends to increase the action of the bowels. Coffee has been proved to be an important article in a soldier’s dietary, as a stimulant and restorative. Like tea, it acts as a nerve-excitant, without producing subsequent depression. It is serviceable against excessive variations of cold and heat, and its efficacy in these respects has been established in Antarctic expeditions, as well as in India and other hot climates. Dr. Parkes pointed out that coffee has a special recommendation in its protective influence against malaria. While admitting that the evidence on this point was not strong, he held it to be sufficient to authorise the large use of coffee in malarious districts. Coffee should be used as an infusion. If coffee be boiled, its delicate aroma is dissipated. (Brit. Med. Jour.) Coffee has a slight value as a nutriment, and a very high value as a stimulant; when mixed with boiling milk in the form of café-au-lait it forms the ideal of breakfast foods for body workers and brain workers, and a very small quantity of black coffee taken after a full meal serves to stimulate the stomach to the necessary digestive effort, and to ward off that sleepiness which is often the attendant of satiety. Supposing all the dissolved matter to be available for the needs of the body, the dietetic value of a cup of coffee is more than twice that of a cup of tea, and if we assume that the stimulating power is due to the contained alkaloid, then quâ stimulant the cup of coffee has more than three times the value of the cup of tea. (Poore.)

Cocoa.--The theobromin of cocoa is, chemically, identical with the thein of tea, and the caffein of coffee. While tea and coffee are comparatively valueless as true foods, cocoa, by reason of the large quantity of fatty and albuminoid substances it contains, is very nourishing, and is of high dietetic value as a tissue-forming food. Compared with tea and coffee, it is a food rather than a stimulant, being akin to milk in its composition and place in the diet-scale. It is useful to sustain the weakly, and to support the strong in great exertion, as a readily assimilable and general form of nourishment. (Brit. Med. Jour.)

Malt Liquors.--The distinguishing characteristic of malt liquors as articles of diet is their feeding-power, and they owe this to the presence in the malt of diastase, by which the insoluble and innutritious starch--the largest fat and heat-producing element in our food--is converted into the soluble and easily assimilable glucose sugar. The use of these beverages, then, in moderation--say 2 glasses a day, one at dinner and the other at supper--seems to be indicated, and would probably prove advantageous, in convalescence from wasting disease, extreme thinness, feeble digestion, or where there is difficulty in maintaining the animal heat. The following table, showing the composition and relative strength of representative malt liquors, may not be uninteresting to the reader:--

-----------------------------+----------+----------+----------+------- | Malt | Alcohol. | Carbonic | Water. | Extract. | | Acid. | -----------------------------+----------+----------+----------+------- Burton ale | 14·5 | 5·9 | 0 | 79·6 Edinburgh ale | 10·9 | 8·5 | 0·15 | 80·45 Porter (Barclay and Perkins) | 6·0 | 5·4 | 0·16 | 88·44 Bavarian beer | 5·8 | 3·8 | 0·14 | 90·26 -----------------------------+----------+----------+----------+-------

Malt extract has lately been brought into the market, and may be used where alcohol is for any reason considered undesirable. (Philip Foster, ‘Alcohol.’)

Smoking.--Though hardly a branch of dietetics, the habit of smoking is now so general (and to some people as necessary as their meals through long habit) as to deserve a few words of notice. Concerning its merits or demerits doctors are far from being agreed. One fact, however, is certain. Ptyalin, the active principle of the saliva or juice of the mouth, is identical in chemical composition with diastase, and has been supplied to us by nature for the purpose of effecting the necessary change of starch into sugar. Now the expectoration which so often accompanies smoking, and is unduly increased by it, means the loss of large quantities of this invaluable fluid.

As to the actual effects of tobacco smoke, Dr. Zulinski has recently published in a Warsaw medical journal the results of a long series of experiments made by him both upon human beings and animals with a view of verifying the physiological effects. He found in the first place that it is a distinct poison even in small doses. Upon men its action is very slight when not inhaled in large quantities, but it would soon become powerful if the smoker got into the habit of “swallowing the smoke,” and Dr. Zulinski ascertained that this toxical property is not due exclusively to the nicotine, but that tobacco smoke, even when disengaged of the nicotine, contains a second toxical principle called colidine, and also carbon oxide and hydrocyanic acid. The effects produced by tobacco depend, he says, to a great extent upon the nature of the tobacco and the way in which it is smoked. The cigar-smoker absorbs more poison than the cigarette-smoker, and the latter in turn than those who smoke pipes, while the smoker who takes the precaution of using a narghilie, or any other apparatus which conducts the smoke through water, reduces the deleterious effects of tobacco to a minimum. As a rule, the light-coloured tobaccos are supposed to be the mildest, but Dr. Zulinski says that a great many of the tobaccos are artificially lightened by the aid of chemical agents which are not always free from danger. He adds that several light tobaccos are also open to the objection of emitting a burning smoke, owing to the large proportion of wooden fibres which they contain, notably the French “caporal” and the English “bird’s-eye,” and that the smoke from these tobaccos is of such a high temperature as often to cause slight inflammation of the tongue, which with people of mature age is not unlikely to lead to cancer. The dark tobaccos are often adulterated, too, but Dr. Zulinski thinks that upon the whole they are the less dangerous. If tobacconists would only introduce a very cheap stem for pipes, smokers could afford to use a new stem every time they lit up, and by this means most of the evils of smoking pipes would disappear.

On cigarette smoking Sir Henry Thompson lately communicated the following remarks to the Lancet. (a) The cigarette, without a mouthpiece, is really never smoked more than half-way through in the East, where cigarettes are very cheap. It is well understood there, as it is by all practised cigarette smokers, that every inhalation from a cigarette slightly deteriorates in quality from the first. A small deposit of the very offensive oil of tobacco is deposited in the finely cut leaf, which acts as a strainer, and intercepts the deposit as it passes. Very little of this arrives in the smoker’s mouth if he stops when half is consumed. Many Oriental smokers consume no more than a third. (b) If a cigarette with a card mouthpiece is employed, the noxious matter may be intercepted by always introducing a light plug of cotton wool into the tube. If now the cigarette is nearly consumed, a considerable quantity of brown and very offensive matter will be found in the cotton wool, from the evil of which the smoker is thus preserved. The wool requires renewal after half-a-dozen cigarettes. (c) The maximum pernicious influence which occurs through cigarette smoking is attained by the practice of inhaling the smoke largely direct into the lungs, where it comes into immediate contact with the circulation, and the toxic effect is strongly perceptible after three or four consecutive inhalations, and felt by a sensitive person to the very tips of the fingers. Such smoking ought to be exceptional. All the fragrance, with a little only of the toxic effect, is obtained by admission of the smoke into the mouth only, still more by passing it through the passages of the pharynx and nose; but pulmonary inhalation, often associated with cigarette smoking, and rarely with the pipe, constitutes the great mischief of the cigarette.

=Laying and Waiting at Table.=--The following suggestions are condensed from a series of articles on the subject by H. Burleigh in the indispensable Queen, intended for households with 2 to 7 servants. Housewives with smaller establishments may still benefit much by the instructions given.

No table ought to be laid, no tablecloth brought into the room, until the hearth has been thoroughly swept up, and the mantelpiece and sideboard well dusted. The neglect of this spoils the look of a room. Then another most important item is the proper preparation in the pantry. Most half-taught servants, which means 19 out of 20, will be continually running backwards and forwards between the pantry and the dining room bringing things piecemeal, instead of first preparing every article and bringing up everything, and then shutting the door on themselves, and quietly laying the table, without the confusing scramble that the former want of method produces. Servants cannot know these things unless a mistress has it in her to teach and train them. It behoves good women to learn each one for herself how to do everything in her house, so that she may teach those who enter her service.

For each meal--breakfast, luncheon, and dinner--there are different rules for laying the table and sideboard. We may call breakfast and luncheons movable feasts, for each day the laying of the table for these meals varies according to the food to be sent up, as at these meals everything is put on at once; whereas for dinner there is one invariable rule, whether there be many or few courses.

Breakfast.--Before you begin to lay your cloth, look to the fire, that it is not in a half-lighted and half-dying condition. If there is one time more than another in which we value a good clear fire, it is in the early morning, when the members of a family come down cold and hungry; but how miserable to descend to a hearth scattered over with half-burned wood and paper, and a cold fire with a hollow in the middle. A good stir, a little more coal, a good sweeping up of bars and hearth ought to be done before the cloth is laid.

The sideboard for breakfast in a small household of 2 or 3 servants ought to have a sideboard cloth, with a joint or a ham on it, with a pile of plates on it according to the number of the family; 2 knife rests, a carving knife and fork, and small knives and forks arranged in stiff rows on each side of the pile of plates, which at breakfast ought to be in the middle of the sideboard, in front of the joint. On the right side should stand the bread board, with white and brown bread, and a bread knife; and on the left side a silver tray, for handing letters when they arrive, and also if the bell has to be rung for anything needed or forgotten, the tray is there ready. In larger households there ought to be a side table, with different cold comestibles, of course a much larger variety than in a smaller establishment; but the same rule holds good, that a sideboard and a side table ought to be straightly and stiffly laid for breakfast.

For the table it is quite absurd to put tablespoons at the corners with saltcellars. Put any tablespoons that are needed at the right side of the dish whose contents require one, or in front of the dish. For each person lay 2 small silver forks, 1 small steel knife, and 1 silver knife. It is a very slovenly way to put only 1 steel knife to each person, for after eating bacon or any meat with the steel knife, it is very nasty to use the same knife for marmalade or butter. Small second-hand silver knives are not expensive to buy for breakfast or for meat teas; keep them for that purpose, and for children’s fruit at lunch, and it saves the nicer dessert knives and forks being used.

In laying your cloth take the greatest care that your tablecloth is exactly in the centre, if not your whole table is thrown out. The laundress ought to be taught to fold the cloths with 2 outside seams and 1 inside fold, not in half and in half again. The former way makes them set so much better. Measure with your apron the distance of the side folds from the edge of the table. The distances ought to be exact.

Be careful before arranging your table for every and any meal to think what will be the general effect on entering the room. Think of what it will look like from the door, which is almost without exception farthest from the head of the table, and therefore so arrange the articles of china and silver that the tallest are nearest to the hand, and thus the effect of each thing is seen as it slopes down to the bottom of the table.

One thing has always to be taught to a new servant, and that is to put knives, forks, and spoons an inch on the table, I. e. to leave 1 in. between the edge of the table and the handles. It is wretched to see the handles over the edge, and the least touch in passing swings them round, to say nothing of the untidy effect. Do not leave a straggling space between the knives and forks for each person, only sufficient for the width of a plate, and let the prongs and handles be exactly and precisely together top and bottom. Care in these details makes such a very great difference in the whole look of a table. If there are flowers in the centre there will not be room for large casters. It is quite the proper thing to have casters on the table for breakfast and lunch, as at these meals every one waits on himself, except in a few uncomfortably grand houses, and, therefore, though it is a vulgarity to put the casters on a dinner table, it is quite right to put them on a breakfast or luncheon table.

After you have arranged your table so far, see that marmalade or honey, or both, rolled butter, sardines, and all cold things, are arranged on the table before you bring up the urn, or coffee or tea, or any hot things. Also have all your sideboard and side table arranged before any hot things come up. Then remember that it is very bad style to bring them in in a straggling and single way. After the urn or kettle and the coffee and tea have been placed on the table, wait until the cook has placed everything on your tray--eggs, muffins, or rolls or buttered toast, bacon, fish, hot milk, &c.--and bring it all up at once, and place them one after the other quickly on the table. In arranging your table take this simple rule--let nothing touch another, be able to pass your finger at least round each article, and place the coffee-pot, teapot, milkjugs, sugar basins, and slop basin so that each is seen, and has its clear and distinct place. Let marmalade and butter correspond, and saltcellars occupy a rather central position at a breakfast table. If small casters are used, containing salt, pepper, and mustard, they can, of course, be placed at corners.

Have perfectly clean and freshly made mustard for each meal. Nothing is worse than to open the lid of a mustard-pot, and see the inside and the spoon clogged with old dry mustard. Cast your salt in an old wineglass, and turn it out in a shape. Place a toast-rack always on a large plate, or else the crumbs make the cloth untidy.

Put a table napkin to each person, and see that your moist-sugar spoon is not clogged with sugar, but thoroughly clean. If you place a knife and fork in front of a breakfast dish, or a spoon and fork, place them so that they meet top and bottom--i.e. let the bowl of the spoon meet the end of the handle of the fork, and the prongs of the fork meet the handle of the spoon; the same with a knife and fork. Do not put a spoon on the preserve glass, but at the side; the same with a butter knife.

To each person at the breakfast table there ought to be, in addition to the usual plate, an extra one, very small, for eggs. In buying a breakfast service, it is better to get more plates and dishes than are usually sold with a set, otherwise the cook is fond of sending up dinner plates and dishes, which make an ugly conglomeration. When it is time to remove the breakfast things, whether it is done by the cook, parlour-maid, or man-servant, it is a most painful ordeal to a methodical mistress unless she teaches them how to do it. A tin tray, not too clean underneath, popped down on the white damask cloth, and everything put upon it promiscuously, plates upon plates with forks and knives left in them, others ditto on the top of that, silver mixed up with knives, delicate glass butter-dishes smashed in among bacon dishes, &c.

Now for the proper method--a much easier one in the end, both as regards the comfort of any one sitting in the room, and of the servant when she deposits the things in the pantry. First take away the silver; take the slop basin in your left hand, and go round the table and put into it each dirty teaspoon, fork, eggspoon, and tablespoon, and put the slop basin on the tray, which should be on a table outside the door. On the same tray put every other silver article except the urn, and carry down this tray and leave it, and bring up another. Then remove the urn; then on the tray take down bread, meat, and dirty dishes, and take the large plate that the toast rack has stood on, and place on it every dirty knife, placing the handles in the plate, which makes less rattling. Then collect plates neatly in piles, and all the saucers in piles, the cups two together, and you will see how much less room they occupy. When the last tray has been removed, bring up your dust shovel and brush, your hearth brush, crumb brush, or towel and a duster. Brush the cloth free from crumbs, and fold it up on the table; also the sideboard cloth, in their exact folds. Leave them on the table and brush up the hearth, brush up the crumbs under the table, and dust the top of the sideboard and mantelpiece, arrange the chairs, and, if allowed, open the window to get rid of the odours of breakfast, and you thus leave the room neat and ready for morning occupation.

A servant can be trained to do all this in ¼ hour from the time she enters the room until the dusting is finished. When she goes into the pantry to wash up, instead of finding everything mixed up, and thus leading to a general washing up of greasy plates and silver spoons in one greasy water, she ought first to wipe the knives, and put them away ready for cleaning, and thus secure them from lying about getting splashed over and rusted. Then all the china should be washed up, first in warm water and soap--no soda, as soda eats away the glaze and the pattern--and then rinsed in cold water, and put away in their places. The eatables ought never to be taken into the pantry at all, but placed at once in the larder--the bread in the breadpan, and the meat on larder dishes, not dining-room dishes left in the larder. The silver ought to be washed up in a quite separate tub, and if servants would only wash up silver in a proper manner, very little plate cleaning would be required. It makes one shudder to see and hear heaps of silver being tumbled higgledy-piggledy into a tub, and when it has been roughly banged about and gloriously scratched, it is equally roughly tumbled out again and left to drain, the very thing that ought not to be done. In washing up silver, take each article singly, wash it well in hot water and plenty of soap; when it is washed leave it in the water, and go on in this way until all is washed. A very good mixture for washing silver in is a lump of soft soap and a lump of whiting put into hot water, and beaten up to a lather with an egg whisk. The great secret in making silver look well is the way in which you dry it. Take each thing out separately, leaving the others in the water; dry it as dry as a bone; dry it as if your glass cloth or plate cloth were a polishing leather, and do not put it down as finished until it is quite hot with friction. This simple rule is sufficient to make silver always ready for table.

You require two cloths, one for the first wet, the other to finish with; but remember to finish off each thing thoroughly at once. If you leave silver to drain, or half finished, there is always a film and a stickiness about it. Before the servant commences any washing up, she ought to put the tablecloth and sideboard cloth in the screw press. If you leave any crumbs in a cloth, they stain it, and 2 or 3 washings will sometimes not remove the stain. In addition to your screw press, have 2 deal boards with spliced ends, and beautifully smooth, and a shade smaller than your press. Lay your cloths between these boards, and it keeps them clean. Take the boards out each time, and after breakfast put the breakfast cloth at the bottom, and the luncheon cloth at the top. Once a week have these boards scrubbed, and your cloths will always be clean.

A great addition to a breakfast table is stewed fruit; it not only looks pretty, and gives an air of refinement to the table, but it is really necessary for health. As the old Spanish proverb says: “Fruit is medicine in the morning, food at noon, and poison at night”; and another version says: “It is gold in the morning, silver at noon, and lead at night.” We do not eat half enough fruit in England, and fruit is much dearer than it ought to be. With proper management a lady can lay in every Saturday a week’s store of fruit--not, of course, the small summer fruits, which must be bought daily. But apples and pears for stewing will keep both before and after cooking, and there are prunes, oranges, melons, all of which are most excellent and wholesome if eaten early in the morning.

Luncheon.--The luncheon table is never 2 days alike, and it is a meal that perhaps is the prettiest of the 3, and certainly calls for taste and management. The proper way to lay the different places for people and the way to arrange the silver and knives on the sideboard is always the same, but the disposition of dishes is almost each day different. For the sideboard, let it be stiffly laid, but of a different stiffness from a sideboard for breakfast. Instead of arranging small knives and forks tightly on each side of the plates as for breakfast, they must be spread out, but straight and stiff. Place in even rows a few tablespoons, dessert spoons and forks, also small knives. Knives ought never to appear on the sideboard for a late dinner, but for breakfast and lunch, because the family wait on themselves at these meals.

Some large and some small plates ought to be put in piles, the former separate from the latter. Sufficient small plates ought to be put for the different sweets and for cheese. The fashion that has of late prevailed of having only large plates, is better omitted than observed, like many other fashions; taste and suitability ought to be the guides and the reasons for fashions. Unfortunately, the only reasons for adopting many fashions is merely because some one with a title has done it.

On the sideboard at luncheon there ought to be the bread trencher, but it is quite wrong to put it for dinner. On the sideboard ought also to be any cold meat, for which there may not be room on the table. A butler’s tray and stand are not necessary or suitable for breakfast or luncheon, especially where there is a dinner waggon and side table.

The first thing in laying your lunch table, is to make it as pretty as you can; and sifted sugar in a coloured basket, wine, fruit, sweets, and rather fanciful glass, all being put on from the beginning, make a lunch table a very pretty sight. With regard to the laying of the table; for lunch put for each person a large and small knife, and 2 large and 1 small forks, and a dessertspoon. You may either place the dessertspoon between the large knife and the small knife, and the small fork between the two large ones, taking care that the end of each handle is even, and an inch off the edge of the table, or you may put the dessert spoon and fork in front of each plate, making the handle of the spoon even with the prongs of the forks. It is quite wrong to put a dessert spoon and fork on the table for a late dinner, because at dinner we are properly waited on; and therefore where it would be bad style to place them for dinner, it is equally out of taste and common sense not to place them for luncheon. It is quite correct to place casters on the table for lunch, either in the middle, or, if small ones, at the corners, or on each side of the centre of the table. Flowers being generally in the middle, the table must be arranged accordingly.

With regard to the way of placing tablespoons, every servant and every mistress has a different way; but the best style, if you have the room, is to let the saltcellars be on a line with the top of the large silver forks, and as far from the edge of the table as the length of the handle of a large silver fork. Then place your tablespoons on each side of the saltcellar, so that the bowls of the spoons are clear of the saltcellar; and thus the handles can be closer together, for compactness in every detail is the very foundation of good service at table. It is not of any great moment if the tablespoons are put at cross corners or not; and sometimes to put them across the corner is a convenience, especially for a lunch table; but, if they are put across corners, then one spoon should be turned one way, and the other another way. If they are arranged the first way, then the water bottles should stand just off the tip of the inside spoon, a little towards the inside of the table. The salt ought to be moulded out of a wineglass. If the spoons and salt are arranged the latter-mentioned way, then the water bottles should be placed in front of the middle part of the inside tablespoon. Meat and vegetables and cold sweets are all put on together at luncheon.

Sometimes servants do not wait at all at lunch, but the more general way is, after the bell or gong has sounded, to come in to remove the covers, and sometimes to hand round the first plates and vegetables; but, unless there are young children, the middle course is best--that the servant should follow the family into the room, remove the covers, and depart. Every one prefers waiting on himself at luncheon, as chatty gossip is more usual than at dinner; and besides, the servants cannot dine at 12.30, unless there is a full establishment, and the luncheon hour of the family is in 9 families out of 10 the dinner hour of the servants, and it is our bounden duty to them to give them peace and rest at their dinner-time.

Unless there is a hot pudding that will spoil, if not served just when it is wanted, there is no need to ring the bell until lunch is finished; and a thoughtful woman will order luncheon with a regard to her servants not having to be rung up.

For lunch, tumblers as well as wineglasses ought to be placed for each person. It is quite wrong to place tumblers for the late dinner on the table, but at lunch it is quite right, because there is no waiting. The wineglasses, either 2 or 3, should be grouped close together, the tallest a little from the right side of the tip of the large knife, and the tumbler below the wineglasses.

The wine decanters for lunch ought to be quarts, and, if possible, placed on each side of the centre crease of the tablecloth, either behind the top dish or the bottom dish. If this is not possible on account of the varying rules for arranging the lunch table, then put them at the corners.

Sometimes for luncheon 2 water bottles are enough, and then cut cheese, or sifted sugar, or rolled butter, or preserves can be put at cross corners opposite the water bottles. Ale, either in a jug, or bottled ale, can be placed on the sideboard; and it is not at all the wrong thing to place it on the table, for ale jugs can be very ornamental, and, if it is bottled beer, the cork ought to be drawn if it is the habit of the family to drink beer; an ornamental cork should be put in, and the bottle placed in a silver hock-stand, either on the sideboard or the table. An ale bottle ought to be washed before drawing it, so should a claret bottle, or any other bottle that is not to be decanted, champagne included.

In pouring out bottled ale, if you will only rest it on the edge of the tumbler where the last rib of the neck of the bottle is, and keep it straight, not tilting it, except in the most gradual way, there would be a proper supply of drinkable ale in the tumbler, and not all froth.

Before laying the lunch table the servant ought to prepare the room, by making up the fire, sweeping up the hearth, and dusting the mantelpiece and sideboard. This ought to be done before the parlour-maid or man-servant dresses for lunch. There is a habit in many families of using the dining room in the morning, but it does look so unrefined to sit down to meals with newspapers, books, workboxes, and writing materials scattered about on chairs and side tables. When luncheon time arrives all such things should be removed, either to a morning room or the back dining room, and put in their proper places.

After washing up the breakfast things the servant ought to prepare for lunch, by setting on a tray everything needed for the table, and also the knives ought to be cleaned, both for the early and late dinner. The French way of cleaning knives is excellent. Wipe the dirty knives clean, not by washing, but with a piece of paper, then lay the knife on a knifeboard, and take a cork and dip the end of it in emery powder, and rub it well up and down the blade with this, and then wipe clean.

Where there are young children whose dinner is at lunch time, the arrangements must of course be different. These arrangements depend so entirely on the numbers in the household, and the ages of the children, that no decided rules can be laid down. But in every case an early dinner ought always to be laid luncheon fashion, as otherwise it can never be laid prettily. What can be more bare and ungraceful than an early dinner laid in most respects as a dinner, yet with none of the accessories that make either lunch or dinner pretty. If the children are very young they require waiting on; but for older school-room children who, with their governess, have dinner at lunch time, unless there is a sufficient staff of servants, waiting is not necessary.

Sometimes it is necessary that hot puddings should come up after lunch has been half finished, and in bringing the pudding, and removing other things, of course a little rearrangement of the table is required. Supposing, too, that the meat was to go down to the kitchen as soon as every one is helped, then the servant should not leave the place vacant that the meat has occupied, but rearrange the dishes so that some other fills its place before she leaves the room.

In taking away the things after lunch is finished, there should be a proper order observed. All silver articles should be kept separate, and the double basket should be brought in, to remove the knives and forks properly, putting each by themselves on each side of the division. After everything is removed, the crumbs ought to be swept up, the carving chairs pushed close up to the table, all the other chairs put in their places, and the window opened. A servant ought to be taught that it is disrespectful to keep a room in a disorderly and unfinished condition, by taking away in a dawdling and unmethodical fashion. Before the last trayful is taken down to the pantry, leave it outside, and return to sweep up the crumbs and finish the room.

It is very good for young people to wait on themselves and their elders at the early dinner, and this can be done without any undue disturbing of their hungry young selves. A good way is to let them take turns day by day to change the plates, and they should be taught not to put the plates upon each other without removing the knife and fork on each, and placing them gently, and without soiling their fingers, in the double basket, which ought to be in the room, as well as the basket for dirty plates.

A butler’s tray is not necessary for luncheon.

Fresh fruit is a great ornament on the lunch table, or on the sideboard, and the dessert plates should be placed there in a pile, or on the dinner waggon, with the silver knives and forks stiffly placed on each side of the plates, and close together. No finger glasses or d’oyleys are used at lunch.

Dinner.--The dining room ought to be the right heat by attending to the fire at 4 o’clock in the afternoon through the winter, or by letting it out if the room is over the kitchen. The intelligent care of the dining-room fire evinced by so many servants in throwing some black coals on just as dinner is ready, is too delightful. If the under bar is well raked out at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, or 5 according to the dinner hour, and well but moderately made up with first a layer of coke, and then coal, the fire will be what it ought to be when the time comes to lay the cloth. Then before bringing in the cloth or anything else for the table, stir the fire, sweep the bars and grate, and dust the mantelpiece, sideboard, and dinner waggon. This is a rule very much neglected by servants, both before luncheon and dinner, but it is a most necessary one, for it is really a dirty trick to throw the tablecloth, sideboard cloth, &c., on a sideboard covered with dust, and an undusted mantelpiece and ornaments on it are unsightly.

The laying of the table for dinner should not be put off, as it so often is, until the servant has barely time to scramble through it; this applies also to all the meals, and there should always be a comfortable margin of time left, so that a servant can wash her hands, and change her apron and cuffs and collar, or a footman make a suitable freshening of himself for waiting at table. To prepare properly in the butler’s pantry is the great secret for a methodical and well-trained manner of laying a dinner table. Not one tray, but two or three if necessary must first be prepared, so that every requisite for the table is brought up before the servant commences to lay the cloth. Silver, knives, glass, cold plates, water bottles, cheese, butter, bread, dessert, finger glasses, &c., ought all to be prepared, and put into the dining room before commencing to lay the cloth. Either in laying a table or in cleaning a room, a well-bred servant ought to shut herself up in the room in which she is busy, surrounded with all her tools.

Before beginning to lay a cloth, a large clean apron ought to be tied on, whether it be a man or a woman servant, so that the dress does not soil the cloth. The thicker the under-cloth the better the white cloth looks. Have your white cloth most exactly in the centre, so that the side folds are at equal distances from the edge of the table, and smooth and stroke and pull your cloth well before you place anything on it. (Wash your hands well before beginning.) Then to each person put 2 large knives and 2 large silver forks, both to be an inch from the edge of the table, and the handles close together and perfectly even. At the top, just to the right of the end of the outside large knife, put your tallest and largest wineglass, and then group the others below, but always slanting a little towards the right, and close together. Unless you place them in this manner, it would inconvenience the person using them. Place sherry, hock, claret, and champagne glasses in this way. Of course this is an extreme of wineglasses, but these are the wines drunk during dinner. Generally for every-day use sherry and claret are sufficient, or sherry, hock, and claret, and if there is champagne, hock may not be needed. Do not put any tumblers on the table for a late dinner, nor any port-wine glasses. Unless there is a good staff of servants, you must lay your table for a dish of each course to be placed at the bottom o£ the table. To attempt to have everything carved at a side table, unless you can do it properly, is simply vulgar pretension. The table can be laid prettily with fruit and flowers, and yet have the soup, then the fish, then the joint placed at the bottom.

If, when there is only one servant to wait at table, the carving is done by her at a side table, either the first person she helps must wait for vegetables, sauce, &c., while she is carving for others, or they must wait for their fish or meat. The sideboard for the late dinner must be laid fancifully and prettily, and with such a disposition of the tallest articles, that all the rest are shown to good effect. No knives should be seen, all should be silver and glass. Never turn a tumbler or a wineglass upside down in arranging a sideboard or a table--it is a vulgarity. At an hotel or restaurant it is reasonable to do so, where tables are really laid for hours, as it keeps out the dust; and on the washing-stand of a bedroom it is proper to turn medicine glasses and tumblers upside down for the same reason, but not in preparing meals in a private house, where the glasses are going to be immediately used. Neither should any spoon or fork be turned upside down, only saltspoons, because otherwise they would not lie on the top of the saltcellars. Arrange on the sideboard dessert spoons and forks, some large spoons and forks, sauce ladles, gravy spoon, fish slice--in short, all of silver that will be required during the different courses. Lay them out in a tasty manner, not too straggling, never in bundles as you would keep them in a plate basket. This is only admissible when there is a large dinner or ball supper, and then you must of course have a reserve in bundles, in addition to those you lay out ornamentally.

In laying the table do not place a soup ladle, a gravy spoon, and a fish slice, or fish knife and fork altogether at the bottom of the table, as so many servants do. Keep the fish knife and the gravy spoon on the sideboard until they are wanted. It is quite right to place the carving knife and fork from the beginning at the bottom of the table, it is then ready, and yet does not make a confusion; in fact it would make more of a confusion if you were to place it only when it was wanted; but remember in laying them to let the bottom of their handles correspond exactly with the bottom of the handles of the two large knives, and let the ends lie on the knife rests. Put 4 saltcellars, one at each corner, or a small one to each person as the custom of the family may be. Place the tablespoons on each side of the saltcellars, so that the handles are in a line; and if you prefer to place your tablespoons straight, let the saltcellars be on a line with the ends of the large knives, but if you prefer to put your tablespoons at cross corners, they ought to be nearer to the edge of the table. If you place the tablespoons straight, the water bottles ought to stand off a little from the tip of the inside tablespoon. If the tablespoons are at cross corners the water bottles must stand across the middle of the inside tablespoon, and in this case you may turn the handle of one tablespoon one way, and that of the other spoon the other way; but when you place them straight, it is better style to have both handles in a row. You may either place 4 water bottles, or 2 water bottles and 2 pint decanters of dinner sherry, letting them correspond at cross corners. Pint decanters have gone very much out of fashion, in these days of handing everything, but they look pretty and cosy. As a guide how far apart you should place the knives and forks for each person, put a plate down between; the edges of a large plate should go over the knives and forks, a small plate should not. Salt ought to be moulded in a little hillock, either out of a small china eggcup, or a wineglass that has lost its stem, and then turned out into the saltcellar. Remember to place knife rests. The butler’s tray is a very ugly object unless a clean tray cloth is put over it; but it is a very necessary relief to the sideboard, as it holds the pudding and cheese plates, knives, and cheese, which ought all to be arranged there during the laying of the cloth, and room left for 2 vegetable dishes--if the family is small; if not, a large side table is needed. The dinner waggon should only be used for dessert plates, and such dessert dishes as cannot be put on the table until dinner is over. Wines for dessert ought also to be placed in the dinner waggon. Each dessert plate ought to be arranged quite ready for placing, with its d’oyley, finger glass, knife, fork, and spoon. The finger glass ought not to be even half full of water. If dessert plates are used without a d’oyley or a finger glass, then place your dessert knife and fork handles on the plates, and let the points go over the plate; this prevents their falling or straggling. The arrangement of the dessert ought always to be the care of the mistress, unless she has a housekeeper, and even then it requires her supervision. It is a thing that requires a lady’s taste and touch. Each day the dishes require wiping, the papers rearranging; and once a week, at least, the dishes want washing. Nothing is worse than to see an old dessert from yesterday put on the table without to-day’s restoration; better go without. Nothing is better than a pretty and fresh dessert paper. For strawberries or any of the small summer fruits that stain in the helping, it is better taste to place them on the bare dish, unless you use the leaves that belong to the fruit; but do not use too many, and be sure to wash them. Never use artificial leaves or flowers to decorate dessert; in fact, never use flowers at all to decorate fruit, it is not true taste. For all winter and dried fruits dessert papers are best, also for biscuits and cake. Do not overload any dessert dish, and never put out ginger either wet or dry, or guava, &c., on a dessert dish, but on a small glass one, and place this on the dish, with a dessert paper under.

Small crystallised fruits are pretty arranged in ornamental paper cups especially made for dessert. Fill each with a different kind, and by leaning them against each other you can make a sort of pyramid. If only one dish of meat is put on at each course, a water dessert jug and goblets can be placed at the top of the table. It is impossible to give more detailed directions as to how the dessert dishes should be arranged on the table, only taking care there be not too many dishes. If the door of the dining room is farthest from the head of the table, let your tallest ornaments be near the head of the table. If you have occasion to bring in any odd chairs for a dinner or supper, do not put them on the side of the table opposite the door. If these two last hints are remembered, you do not spoil the general effect.

After removing the meat course, and all that belongs to it, remembering to turn out also the plates, so that the cook can be going on with her washing-up, return to the room, and shut the door.

If there is a tart, go to the sideboard, and place on a tray 2 clean knife rests, and a knife and fork--the latter, of course, to be silver. Place these to the right and left of your master, the handles an inch from the edge of the table; then put a tablespoon to the right of where the tart dish will be, not by the side of the knife. Look round, and remove unsightly articles, such as tumblers that have been used for beer, and remove also any large knives that have not been used during the meat course; also put the saltcellars in their places, and water bottles. These little matters are easily and quickly done, and give a much more suitable and refined appearance to the dinner table for the serving of the sweets; for, naturally, the table gets a little disordered during the meat course from people using salt, mustard, cayenne, water, &c.

However small the article may be, always bring it to the table on a tray, or take it off in the same way. Now bring in and place before your master the tart or pudding and put the other sweets on the side table. Take in your right hand the sugar basin, and hold a pudding plate in your left. If your master puts the first helping on the plate that is before him, then the one you have in your hand does to replace it, and if there is only one servant waiting, of course this is the best way, but if two are waiting, then one can always hold a plate for a helping to be put on it. If two servants are waiting, the second follows with the sugar and sauce, if the latter be needed. When every one has had pudding or tart, remove it before handing the other sweets, or, if it is merely an every-day family dinner, you may hand the sweets to those that refuse pudding. As you remove a pudding plate that has been used, replace it with a clean one, with a fork upon it, with the handle on the plate and the prongs over the edge to keep it steady. Then hand the other sweets, holding the dishes with your hand underneath and very firm. If it should be jelly, blancmange, or cream, a tablespoon is sufficient, but for pastry a large fork as well as a spoon is needed. In handing entrées or sweets that require cutting, the first cutting should be done by the servant at the sideboard before she hands the dish. In dishing sweets, never decorate them either with flowers or anything else, except their own cooking belongings. It is very bad taste simply because it is without any reason. A glass dish set in a silver one is the best, with a fringed d’oyley between, barely showing, but just enough to prevent a hard look. If there are not any silver dishes, then hand the glass dish by itself. Inexperienced servants commit the mistake of offering sweets to people who have already some of another kind on their plate. You must wait, and give a clean and separate plate for each sweet. Not only is it better taste and style, but your own sense will tell you that one sweet will spoil another, if eaten together. If there is game, it comes in before the sweets, and without any vegetables. In the case of a game course following the entrée and meat course, do not trouble to rearrange the table so exactly as before the sweet course, but still, a sharp natty servant will always give some touches before each. The bread-sauce ought to be in one tureen and the gravy in another, if it is game that requires gravy, and the breadcrumbs should be handed on a flat dish, as you would cut toast for soup. To all game hand cayenne pepper but no sauces, as the game flavour would be destroyed. If the game should be wild duck, it ought to be dished quite dry, and, as soon as you have placed it before your master, place by his side a cut lemon, cayenne pepper, and the sauce, which should be poured over the breast after it has been cut. In the same way, if, at the meat course the dish should be a fore-quarter of lamb, you must place by the side some butter, lemon, and cayenne pepper, and you must have ready in your hand a small dish on which to receive the shoulder when it is removed. The lemon, butter, and cayenne should be put in between the shoulder and the ribs after it is cut and before removing the former.

Another hint for beefsteak puddings, if that dish should happen to represent the meat course. Have a hot-water jug, with boiling water; place it by the side on a little china stand. The pudding should be carved by cutting a round out of the top, and then pour plenty of the boiling water in; make an incision at the bottom of the pudding, and rich gravy will rush out; take a tablespoon, and ladle it into the pudding several times. This by no means impoverishes the pudding, but improves it, especially if there are kidneys in it.

To prepare for the cheese course. Remove everything belonging to the sweet course, and then return to the room, and shut the door. There is so much less rule observed nowadays, and so much more carelessness indulged in, that the proper rules will soon be lost sight of, and there is not one house in 20 where one sees the cheese course properly done. The proper rule is this--before cheese is brought in everything should be removed, except water and salt--because these are the only things that are required with cheese, so far as the things on the table are concerned. The port wine and ale are on the sideboard, and so are the tumblers and wineglasses in which they ought to be handed. As you remove the dirty pudding plates, replace them with cheese plates, with a small knife and fork on each, with the handles resting in the plate. Never place a cheese plate with only a knife. Half the reason why it is popularly supposed to be unladylike to eat cheese, is that it has been so generally eaten with only a knife, and this is done away with if a silver fork is used. In fact a fork is sufficient without a knife. If two servants are waiting, the second holds the tray while the other places everything on it; but if there is only one, she has to use a smaller tray, and then it is a better method to remove all the silver together, and then all the glass. If any one has used a tumbler to drink water out of during dinner, do not remove it, but leave it for the same use during cheese. There are many ways of handing cheese, the most refined being to hand it, cut in squares from which the rind has been removed, on a round glass dish or small tazza, and some rolled butter on another; or it may be handed in a china dish with 3 divisions--for butter, for biscuits, and for cheese. This latter is the more convenient where there is only one servant. But many people like to have the cheese placed on the table when they are alone; and in that case you must place your cheese scoop or knife ready to the right before you place the cheese on the table, and remember to bring it on a tray. If the cheese is put on the table, you must stand at your master’s left side with a spare cheese plate in your hand. Several squares of cheese are cut, and you must place on this a small silver fork, and hand it round to each person, as you would a dish, and each takes a piece on to their own plate with the fork. Then hand bread, or biscuits, or oat cake, or pulled bread, and butter. Then go to the sideboard and pour out, in a port-wine glass, some port wine, not to the brim, and 2 tumblers of ale. (This is supposing that there are 3 gentlemen at the table.) Hand these on a small round tray; if a gentleman takes the port wine, return to the sideboard with your tray and pour out another glass, and hand with the ale.

Now remove the cheese course, but if cheese straws or cheese pudding or cheese soufflé are eaten instead of plain cheese, you must observe the same rules, the only thing you have to remember is to hand cayenne with these.

There is only one proper way to wait at table, and the foundation of good waiting is, that there is a reason and a suitableness in every rule, there is also a graceful simplicity in good waiting. And by clearing as you go, which is the key-note of all these directions, it is a help to every one. Firstly, the family comfort and refinement are more attended to, the cook gets her dishes and plates, and has not a general descent upon her of greasy things, muddled up with others, and the things can be taken to the butler’s pantry in a more methodical manner.

Having a proper table in the hall for placing dishes on greatly facilitates their removal down stairs. A flap table with strong supports is the best for a narrow hall, or a trestle table, which should not be put out until the first course has begun.

Now, to prepare for dessert. Having followed the rules, you will find there is very little left to remove. Having cleared the table, remove the slip cloth from the bottom, and take all the crumbs away. A scraper with a handle is best, as a brush is not often enough washed; always use a pudding plate--a clean one, of course--to scrape the crumbs into. First bring a fork to take away the pieces of bread with, and then scrape the cloth very carefully, for nothing stains damask more than breadcrumbs, if the cloth is screwed down in a press with crumbs left in it. Never bring a dessert plate to the table until you have quite cleared it of crumbs. Spread out your dessert dishes, and fill up the spaces with others, that you have kept on the dinner waggon. After you have placed spoons to the right of each dish, place to each person the proper wineglasses, and lastly, the wine, before your master, and if you have used other decanters during dinner, the dessert decanters are nice and bright. See that the sifted sugar basin that has been used at the pudding course is wiped, and the sifter clean before putting it on the table.

Where there is only a house and parlour maid, it is absurd to expect her to hand the dessert dishes; and even if two are waiting, it is rather a bore in every-day life. It is kinder to the servants to let them go to their washing-up, and pleasanter to oneself to be without them.

One of the untidy customs of nowadays is to leave the sideboard half-cleared, and for the servants to withdraw, leaving many things about there that have nothing to do with dessert, and which had much better be cleared away and put in their proper places, including the sideboard cloth, while the family are at dessert.

As soon as the servants have left the room, the fire in the drawing-room ought to be attended to if it is winter, and any little touches the room requires; and before the lady of the house leaves the dining room it is a good plan to ring the bell, as a hint to the cook to look to the coffee, which should either be brought in when the drawing-room bell rings, or at a regular hour. (II. Burleigh.)

Folding Serviettes.--A few examples only are given. Those wishing for more are referred to the ‘Book of Dinner Serviettes,’ published at the Queen office.

The accompanying figures illustrate how to fold serviettes, and present details as to the manner of folding them. Fig. 84 is a dinner serviette (folded) with bread inside. Fig. 85 shows first detail of folding, half the length of serviette. Fold the serviette in 3 thicknesses lengthwise, and turn back one half of the top flap in 3 plaits along the centre line. Fig. 86 shows second detail of folding, whole length of serviette. Proceed by folding the serviette at right angles from the centre. Then trace the dotted line and the waved line which equally divides the triangle formed by the second folding. You will then have Fig. 87, third detail of folding. Trace the two waved lines shown, and fold from the outside towards the centre to form a square underneath the triangle, as shown in Fig. 88, fourth detail of folding. Finish by folding back the corners as indicated by the arrows.

Fig. 89 is a breakfast serviette (folded), with bread inside. Fig. 90 shows first detail of folding, half the length of serviette. Commence by folding the serviette in 3 thicknesses, and form one half of the top flap into a centre plait. Fig. 91 shows second detail of folding. Turn over and fold the serviette in halves as shown in Fig. 91, and trace the waved lines. Then fold from right and left. You will then have Fig. 92, third detail of folding. Take up the top layer, and fold as indicated by the dotted lines of the triangle. Thus you come to Fig. 93, fourth detail of folding, and Fig. 94, fifth detail of folding. The same manipulation is repeated from the opposite side, and the corners placed under the centre plait. To arrive at a satisfactory result the folding must be done very carefully, and serviettes ought to be very slightly starched by the laundress.

The Marie Louise Serviette.--Open the serviette before you; fold it in half, with the edges at the top; plait 4-5 in. of the damask upwards to within 1 in. of the top, as described in Fig. 95; turn the serviette over, and make a similar plait on this side (see Fig. 96); plait this up crossways in the manner of a closed fan, and with the finger and thumb draw out the points between the folds, as described on the left-hand side of Fig. 97; place the lower part of the fan in a wineglass or serviette ring; it will then assume the appearance represented in Fig. 98.

=Carving.=--The following excellent instructions are summarised from a series of articles by D. Q. P., published in the Queen some time since.

Fish.--It is scarcely necessary to state that the duties of the carver do not commence until the fish is on the table; but, granting that fish may be easy to cut up, yet it is quite as possible to mangle and destroy its appearance as it is to destroy the look and flavour of a fowl. Fish requires in its way the same qualities and skill. There should be the same knowledge of the general anatomy, and of the choice and ordinary parts. Delicacies and tit-bits abound in all fish. A fish slice should always be used, and the best form for it may be likened to the sole of a Turkish slipper, the pointed toe turning a little upwards, and the handle springing from the centre of the heel. The fork usually accompanying the fish slice is not by some people considered an absolute necessity, an ordinary dinner fork doing such service as is required.

If a spoon or ladle has to be used, care must be taken never to spill, or make a mess, or heap up a great quantity of what is being helped upon a plate at a time. Avoid jerking, or the slipping of knife, fork, or slice, always keeping the elbows well into the sides, and letting the strength necessary to be exercised come from the hands and wrists. Never, either, grasp your carving implements too near the hilt; rather hold them, as well for the sake of appearance as for cleanliness and neatness, as much at the end of the handle as possible.

Cod.--With regard to codfish, the flaky system of apportionment should generally be adopted, though, under certain circumstances, what applies to the cutting up of salmon may be remembered, with the addition that the liver and the sound of cod, playing as they do very important parts, must be dispensed in fair quantities with each helping of the solid. Very requisite, in dealing with these little adjuncts, is it for the carver to calculate to a nicety the proportions which will allow a taste for everybody at the board.

Cod’s head and shoulders is looked upon by some as a vulgar dish. After delicately slicing away in one or two unbroken flakes a small portion of the solid shoulder, a piece of the gelatinous flesh in and about the jowl should also be placed upon the plate, as this is a particularly nutritious and succulent substance. It is impossible to do much more than to dig out this rather unmanageable substance, clearing away the jaw and other bones, and leaving them upon the dish; though, despite the readiness with which the flesh comes away, it is not always easy to get rid of them entirely, and a few may inevitably adhere to the portions distributed. But, as the characteristic of these helpings must be a certain amount of unsightliness, the bones are of little consequence, and must be expected.

Flounders.--Fried flounders are not by any means to be despised; but of course, like fillets, fried or stewed eels, flounder souchet, smelts, whitebait, and such small fry, need no carving; though “helping” must always be considered as a very material element in the carver’s art.

Gurnet.--The gurnet is not so common as either of the foregoing; it is treated with the fish slice precisely upon the same principles as those prescribed for the haddock.

Haddock.--The haddock, which is generally cooked and served in a curled posture, will best recommend itself to the carver who has an eye to excellence in quality and cookery; the flakes should fall right and left, with a creamy suffusion upon the slightest touch of the fish-knife’s point as it is run down the spine. The thickest or shoulder end of the fish is the best; and if there be a preference, the inner side is likely to be the more delicate, and, therefore, suited to the special or appreciative friend, for whom the carver should always have a thought.

Herring.--The last remark also applies to the fresh herring, when of too great dimensions to form one portion by himself; he, like the red mullet, is more delicate when small in size, just enough for one.

John Dory.--The John Dory is to be carved upon precisely the same principles as the turbot, with additional emphasis laid on the importance of the fin, whilst the skin is in itself an exquisite delicacy--never to be tampered with by the carver. The wart-like growths which mar to some extent the back of the turbot are absent in the John Dory, which may be said to be always the better, the larger he is. His head, important as it looks, does not recommend itself, and, as a rule, being filled with parsley, should be left untouched upon the dish.

Mackerel.--Mackerel, though a simple dish for the carver to attack, must not be passed over without a word. When boiled, it should never be hacked by an attempt to divide it through and through; but the fish slice should be inserted from his tail upwards, to his gills, reserving for a special friend the tail quarter, and, if the fish be in roe, perhaps just a suggestion of an unfair share of the latter. The head and backbone are easily disengaged from the remaining underneath side upon the dish, and there is no question that it is better not to turn it over when this part is to be helped. A broiled mackerel, on the contrary, being split, should be cut through and through, bone and all.

Mullet.--The red mullet, again, makes very little demand upon dexterity, nothing being requisite beyond a fair division, longitudinally, into 2 parts, if the fish be too large for one. The so-called liver, usually just visible under the opening of the gill, is a most precious morsel, and must fairly be apportioned, whilst the head itself presents much pretty picking, the brain not being the least. Small red mullet, however, besides being superior in quality to the large, have the advantage of forming just sufficient for a single portion.

Salmon.--Salmon is a fish which offers very little difficulty to the carver, and so long as a due proportion of thick and thin be neatly cut--again in oblong squares--from the side lying uppermost, nothing remains to be attended to. The thick, however, must always predominate in quantity, and it is better to begin cutting from the left, and also better, as in the case of the turbot, to raise the bone when the upper side is gone than to attempt to turn the fish over to get at the remaining lower side. The head and tail, though usually despised, and rarely seen at table, have nevertheless some very succulent picking on them, but do not offer much of a field for the carver to display his skill upon. He has but “to help” them as neatly as may be. Equally, this is pretty much all he has to do when the fish is brought to table in slices; he has usually but to make an equal division of the slice, taking care, of course, that each half is made up of thick and thin together.

Shell-fish.--Shell-fish likewise only generally has to be “helped,” being usually cut up before it is sent to table, and therefore does not need more than a word of recognition here; but it maybe permissible to add that the lobster has no part, not even the minutest tendril, that is unworthy of attention.

Sole, &c.--In speaking of the turbot and dory, nearly all has been said that is necessary to guide the carver in his handling of brill, large sole, and plaice.

Turbot.--Lying flat upon its back, plunge the point of the fish slice at once into its thickest folds just below the jowl, and run it down in an imaginary central line to the tail; then split the flesh into oblong squares, each terminating with a due proportion of fin; for remember the fin of the turbot is a delicacy which should never be overlooked. A careful eye should be had to the number of guests to be helped; for if recourse must be had to the under side of the fish, it is well to bear in mind that here the carver will find himself amongst a shoal of starry wart-like growths, by no means agreeable to the masticatory functions. Still, of course, when these are eliminated, there is plenty of good eating on this under side or back of the waistcoat, and it is better to lift the bone away from it (in doing which there is no difficulty, if the fish be well cooked) than to attempt to turn him over when the white front has disappeared.

Whiting.--Fried whiting served in this same form should be very large to be so manipulated; but it is a fairer plan for the consumer than cutting the fish deliberately in half. Thus, both the haddock and the whiting should be helped in portions made up of the largest flakes obtainable, and, if the former be stuffed, naturally some of the stuffing must be placed on each plate.

Meat.--The edge of the knife must be of preternaturally dangerous sharpness, and the fork must not have been used too persistently as an instrument for the extraction of corks. Bright, straight, sharp-pointed prongs, and keen-edged flashing blades, are indispensable for good carving. The round form, slight curve, and rather rough surface common to buckhorn handles, afford a grip and purchase absent from the ordinary straight bevel-edged ones of ivory or bone. Remember that for carving joints the handles of the knife and fork are to be short and the blades and prongs long, and that for game and poultry the very reverse of this is necessary, greater firmness of blade and point in the latter case being requisite.

Beef.--First the sirloin. The fillet or under-cut, being always better when eaten hot than cold, should generally claim first attention. It must be cut transversely into thick slices, like a tongue; as also should be the fat at the thinner end, a portion of which should go with each slice of lean from the thicker. The joint must be turned over, to enable the carver to get at it conveniently; and, according to the number of persons to be helped, he should cut so many slices at once, before setting the bone up in its proper position again. By this means he can, when helping from the main bulk of the joint, give a portion of the fillet to each, without having constantly to turn the joint from one side to the other. Some people prefer that both upper and under side of a sirloin should be cut alike--that is, transversely--and, though generally considered an extravagant way, it is not without its advantages; the chief of these notably being that each slice has an equalisation of brown and juicy meat--there being, so to speak, no outside cut, each help having, in a section, brown and underdone in the same slice. A piece of the fat from the flap or lower end of the joint must, of course, accompany every portion, as in the case of the fillet, and it should be remembered that these two sorts of fat are very different in quality; the under, or fillet, being of a far more juicy, delicate, and tender quality than the upper, especially when hot. The upper, however, accompanied as it is by the crackly edge of skin, is exceedingly toothsome, with a flavour peculiarly its own.

The ordinary plan of carving the sirloin, however, recommends itself to most housewives as the better, from the fact that lean and fat go together necessarily with each slice. It is generally advised that, before slices are cut, the point of the knife should be inserted a short distance between the meat and the bone, both of the chine (or short upright bone) and the rib (or long bone). Then the knife has but to be passed dexterously down the face of the meat, and each slice comes away easily and clean from the edges. Only, of course, those who are helped first, in this instance, get the brown or well-done outside, and those later on the under-done or juicy. Therefore it is always necessary for the carver, as an act of common civility, to ask those whom he is helping whether their preference be for well or under done. Slices of roast beef from the upper side cannot well be cut too thin, when carved in the ordinary fashion, excepting perhaps the first or outside slice, which admits, from its crispness, of having a little more substance. The joint should be kept perfectly straight upon the dish--that is to say, at right angles with the line of sight of the carver--nothing looking worse or more awkward than for the meat to be twisted all awry; and in fact no real facility is afforded by doing so, for, if the carver does but stretch his arms out far enough to bring his right hand and wrist well above the joint, he will find that by holding the knife almost perpendicularly, and cutting downwards, he has, with the support from the fork, all the purchase necessary. On no account, either, may he stand up, set his arms akimbo, or bow his back; all the strength requisite can be exercised from his chair, by inclining the body sufficiently forward. The muscular exertion demanded is seldom greater than most ladies, with practice, can supply, and they should not be deterred by any slight sense of fatigue in the early days of their carving career, as it will prove a gentle exercise well calculated to strengthen their hands and wrists, without in any way disfiguring them.

During all pauses in the carving, the knife and fork should be placed on the knife rests, and never thrust and left under the joint; nor, while the carver adds the gravy to the plate of meat in front of him, with the spoon in his right hand, is it well for him to hold both knife and fork in a bunch, as it were, in his left. To do this gives a slovenly, hasty, eating-house sort of effect to the process, especially if, at the same time, the dish be tilted with the left hand, for the easier filling of the spoon. This is always an inelegant proceeding, calculated to endanger the purity of the tablecloth, by the sluicing of the gravy over the edge of the dish, or, even worse, by the capsizing of the joint itself. A carver cannot be too careful never to make a mess; and if every meat dish has, as it should have, a well, there is no excuse for his doing so. A tiny crust of bread put under one end of the dish to cant it a little, in the absence of a gravy well, is at the most all that can be pardoned in the way of disturbing the equilibrium of the dish. If a portion of the garnish of horse-radish is to go with each helping, it must be dispensed with the points of the fork. The gravy spoon should always be put in a vessel of hot water, and placed at the right hand of the dish, up to the moment of using. So essential, too, are hot plates to a perfect condition of roast meat, that a second plate, for a second helping, is strongly to be advocated; and for the same reason, though a dignified calm should characterise the carver’s behaviour, there should be, on the other hand, no approach to dawdling.

Attention to simple details like these distinguishes the good from the bad carver, and renders the execution of the task rather a graceful act than otherwise. In carving the sirloin and similar ribbed joints, a too pliant blade is not desirable. When, however, we are dealing with a round of beef lying flat before us, or the boiled silver side, or a piece of roast so-called boned beef, the knife cannot well be too yielding, nor, again, the slices cut too thin. Never either omit with this sort of joint, where one has to cut directly towards the fork, to raise its finger guard, for, if the knife slip, it will run straight up over the bow of the prongs, to the imminent peril of the carver’s hand. For, of course, in manipulating a piece of meat with the surface to be cut lying uppermost, the left or fork hand is higher than the right or knife hand--nearly the reverse of the position necessary in carving a joint standing upright. In this case the knife is held nearly perpendicularly, the fork nearly horizontally--just, indeed, the contrary to the manner of using the tools for a flat joint.

With the aitch-bone, as with the round of beef, it may be desirable to cut rather a thick slice from the outside before beginning to help; but the habit is wasteful, and should be adopted with judgment. These are not difficult joints to carve, if it be always remembered that a knife with a thin pliant blade is absolutely necessary. Of course a delicate morsel of the fat must go with each serving. The brisket of beef is not a joint very usually to be met with; but it has its merits, and has only to be cut neatly across the bones, to prevent its having a jagged, untidy look on its reappearance at table. What has been said concerning the carving of the sirloin of beef applies in all respects to the carving of the ribs, except that, these having no under-cut, the task is rendered less diversified. The beef tongue must likewise be carved precisely upon the same principles as the sirloin, when that joint is cut transversely, like its fillet; the fat at the root of the tongue, of course, not being overlooked.

Mutton.--All details about knife, fork, spoon, dish, position of joint, and of the body, arms, and hands of the carver--referred to when speaking of beef--are equally necessary with regard to haunch and saddle of mutton. The first thing to be done in carving the former being to make at the knuckle end a deep cut across, down to the bone, with the point of the knife, this forms a basis for a well, into which the gravy will run from every succeeding cut, which ought to pass at right angles to the first incision--that is, all along, in continuous and thick (but not too thick) slices--the whole length of the joint. The moment room at the knuckle end, where the first cut was made, is obtained for the insertion of the spoon, a modicum of the gravy which has accumulated in the hollow should be distributed with each helping, as, of course, it is the richest, being absolutely pure essence of meat. Care too must be taken never to forget putting a little extra fat upon each plate, as the haunch of mutton fat is highly prized; and whoever is most expeditious in assisting the guests may be counted the best carver of mutton, for that it should be piping hot is indispensable.

Saddle should be cut very much upon the same principles as the haunch, and presents no great obstacles to the carver. If a preference be given to carving the slices obliquely instead of straight, the thin end of the saddle should then be on the right of the carver. Each side of the chine or backbone is to be dealt with alike, the first slice always taken from as close to the bone as possible. As the fat lying in the region of the kidneys is held in great estimation, a portion of it should go with every helping; and therefore it is advisable for the carver directly the cover is taken off the joint to tilt the saddle a little on one side, and cut away at once from underneath it as much of this same fat as will be required to go the whole round of the table. He should then slip it all into the gravy well, and thus it will be quite ready for him to help from, otherwise, if this be not done at starting, and attempts are made to get at it after he has begun to cut into the joint, he will in all probability spill the rich gravy settling in the channel made by his first incisions--an unpardonable wasting of good stuff--or he will overlook the kidney fat altogether, to the disappointment of everybody concerned; and the fat is not nearly so good cold as hot.

The popular leg of mutton owes perhaps a great deal of its popularity to the ease with which it may be cut up. Little has to be done, save to pass the knife straight down at right angles with the bone, and not obliquely, as one would carve a ham. Then, according to the preference of the guests, tolerably thick slices from either the knuckle or the upper end may be distributed, the knuckle end being always the better done, though not always perhaps the choicest in flavour. Many little fancies and predilections for certain tit-bits will be met with: 2 quaint pieces of brownish, crisply-roasted fat, like ears or little wings, protruding from the upper end of the joint, being, with the Pope’s-eye, notable instances. Some are fond of having this joint dished with the under side uppermost, so as to get at the finely grained meat lying under the Pope’s-eye; but this is an extravagant fashion, and one that will hardly find favour in the eyes of economical housewives.

On the butcher’s proper attention to the process known as “jointing” depends mainly the facility with which a loin of mutton is cut up, and we must not attribute blame to the carver who has to struggle against the neglect by that functionary of this important matter. If it has been rightly attended to, the carving knife can be made easily to find its way between the chine bone, and can then, without any let or hindrance, be passed down through the ribs, separating them one after another, again reserving the outside chop for those who prefer the meat brown and well done. The fat and lean go together with each bone, in common sequence, demanding little or no thought from the carver, save perhaps here and there, where an ugly or rugged bit of skin requires to be trimmed off neatly.

Next to the loin of mutton comes the shoulder, as the joint offering the least difficulty to the carver. The knife has but to be passed from the outer edge of the shoulder across the meat towards the carver, until the bone is reached. Take away slice after slice in this direction, and then resorting to the meat lying on either side of the blade bone, according to the quantity required, in this instance cutting lengthways of the joint. When no more can be obtained from the upper side of the joint, it must be turned, and there are many people who do not consider that they have had the best of a shoulder of mutton until this side is attacked. It will now present almost the appearance of a new joint, being quite flat, and offering a succession of juicy slices along its entire length. These have to be dexterously removed, very much upon the principles recommended when flat joints were spoken of. These slices are preferred for hashing, however, by those who think that the quality of the grain of the meat from this part of the joint renders it inferior at the first cooking to the upper.

It is not necessary, with one exception, to say anything about joints of lamb, for they only have to be manipulated according to the rules laid down for mutton. The exception is a fore-quarter of lamb. In removing the shoulder from the breast--the first point to which he directs his attention--hold the shoulder firmly with the fork, and proceed with the point of the knife to cut through the smoking crisp brown skin in a circular line, at the junction of the two joints. Following the same line for a second time, and now thrusting the knife farther into the meat, a very little exertion with the left hand makes it easy to raise the shoulder from the breast, whilst a pat of butter, a little cayenne pepper, some salt, and a good squeeze of lemon are placed between them by the carver. When, in a moment or two, these ingredients have assimilated with the gravy, it is sometimes, for the sake of convenience, thought desirable to place the shoulder upon another dish, hot, and standing ready at the carver’s left hand, or held there by a servant. This done, inquiry is made of those about to be helped as to their preference for brisket, ribs, or a piece of the shoulder. The brisket should be separated from the ribs by one long cut from left to right, and then subdivided at the distance of one or two bones, by cuts at right angles with the line which separated the brisket from the ribs. These again, in like manner, are divided into chops by carving them similarly to the shorter bones of the brisket, and upon the same principle as when cutting up a loin of mutton.

Venison.--Those who have any experience in carving haunches or saddles of mutton have very little to learn with regard to venison; the principles which guide them in dealing with the former have only to be followed out in the latter. A haunch of venison is carved exactly like a haunch of mutton; but, being somewhat larger, it is advised by some authorities that the broad end of the haunch, instead of the side, should be turned towards the carver for the purpose of giving him greater command over the joint. This system leads to an entire disturbance of the appearance and general arrangement of the table; and a skilled carver should be independent of such twistings to meet his convenience, except under great emergencies. Epicures pretend that there is a vast difference between the flavour of the slices cut close to the vertebræ and those farther removed, and the carver must make concessions to such notions, and give those whom he is helping their slice from the region which they prefer. Never either must he omit to give a dip of the rich gravy always accumulating in the channel whence the slices are taken, nor an ample portion of fat with the lean. Expedition, but without hurry, is essential in carving venison, as, like mutton, it chills very rapidly: but, as on the whole a haunch of venison is not a difficult dish to deal with, there never should be anything to complain of on the score of delay. As the shoulder of venison is usually sent to table stewed and rolled, the bone having been removed, it presents no difficulty whatever to the carver, and being, so to speak, a fat joint, has to be dealt with according to the principles already laid down. Sometimes, however, the shoulder is roasted, as is also the neck; but these--with braised brisket, fillets, and steaks--do not demand any special comment as to their carving; for what has been learned about cutting up sheep should prove sufficient for the comparatively rare occasions when the carver is called upon to discuss deer.

Veal.--The commonest form in which veal offers itself is perhaps a roast breast, and if a carver has had any experience in cutting up fore-quarter of lamb, he will at once recognise the similarity between a breast of veal and the aforesaid joint of lamb after the shoulder has been removed. Like it, the veal is composed of ribs and brisket, and may be cut accordingly, that is, first, by separating in one long incision the ribs from the brisket, and then the rib bones one by one, after the manner of chops generally. The gristly brisket may be cut in squarish portions, inquiring of course always of the guests whether they prefer the latter or the former. The brown, well-cooked parts in veal are usually most esteemed; and if the sweetbread, as it sometimes is, be sent to table with the joint, it ought naturally to be fairly distributed. Once more, in manipulating the roast fillet of veal, the carver has only to remember what has been said respecting a round of beef, with the addition that a portion of the stuffing, which is inserted between the flap and the main bulk of the meat, be served with each helping, and that the brown outside, or first slice, is considered a very choice morsel.

A knuckle of veal, being in shape somewhat like the knuckle end of a leg of mutton when it has been divided, needs but few directions for carving. The slices from the thicker end are the best; that would be to the right of the first incision into the meat.

The butcher is mainly responsible for the good carving of a loin of veal, for if he have not done his jointing properly, it is hardly possible to cut it up decently; whereas, if he has done his work well, the carver has but to feel his way with the point of the knife, on lines already laid down, to be able to disengage the separate portions--never, by the way, overlooking the kidney, and the kidney fat, lying on the under side of the joint.

It is not very easy to describe the exact method of carving calf’s head, but a little experience and examination of its organic development soon suggests what has to be done. When upon the dish, the nose and mouth should be to the right of the carver, and the first incision should be made right down to the bone, and running all along from the back of the nearest ear down towards the nose, and slices be cut away in the same direction. With each of these should go a piece of what is called the sweetbread of the throat, a substance to be found under the ear, and, so to speak, at right angles with the line of the first incision, and it should be cut towards the carver in the direction in which it lies. Calf’s head has a multitude of succulent morsels, to wit, the ears, the flesh round the eyes, and the eyes themselves. Also the palate, which, lying under the head, is to be got at when the jaw bone is removed; and where, likewise, some nice lean becomes accessible. On a separate dish, of course, the tongue and brains are served, of which every one is invited to partake.

Sheep’s head is held to be a very vulgar dish, and a lamb’s head, perhaps, only one degree less so. Still he who is unfortunate enough at any time to find himself with the responsibility of carving or helping such viands may take courage if he has any knowledge of what is demanded of him when similarly situated with a calf’s head, the heads of the smaller animals being then very easy of manipulation.

Pork.--Like calf’s head, a sucking pig seems at first sight to be rather an appalling dish, and undoubtedly a little experience is requisite before one becomes quite au fait with the business. But the whole substance is so tender, and yields so readily to the knife, that after a slight knowledge of the anatomy of the animal has been acquired, all difficulties vanish. The little piglet generally appears upon the board divided into four parts; the head, like the body, being cloven in twain, a cheek being placed at either end of the carcase. In dealing with the latter, the shoulder has first to be removed by passing the knife circularly round its junction with the body, pretty much as one does with fore-quarter of lamb. The leg is then treated after the same fashion, when the ribs will be open to view, for gentle division. Each side of the animal is disposed of in the same way; the larger joints being considered, perhaps, the least delicate (if, where all is delicacy, there can be a “least”) are usually offered to the robuster appetites at table. As in the case of all dishes abounding in choice morsels, the epicure is sure to have his fancies about sucking pig--one preferring the ribs, another the neck, and a third the meat from the shoulder.

Concerning leg of pork, really little or nothing additional has to be said. The knife only needs to be carried straight down through the crackling to the very bone; as each slice is taken away, such stuffing, gravy, &c., as accompany it, is distributed either from the joint itself or from sauceboats. Allowing for a slight difference in form, it has to be treated like most of the leg joints that come to table, and the same may be said of the loin. As you dispose of a loin of mutton, so do you of a loin of pork, the due value of the crackling, fat, and brown tit-bits being kept in mind. The butcher here again is responsible for the jointing, and the cook for the judicious scoring of the crackling.

Ham alone remains to be noticed in this part of our subject, and according as one wishes to have fine or economical slices, must it be carved. In the first case, the start is made upon the prime part at once; in the second, from quite the lower end of the knuckle, advancing gradually at a gentle angle towards the thicker and prime part of the meat. A pliant, very sharp knife is indispensable, as the slices cannot well be too thin, or too evenly and smoothly cut. It is of little concern to the carver whether the ham be hot or cold, and the same may be said of joints generally.

Odd Dishes.--Very little need be said about “helping” dishes of meat, as part of the carver’s duty, even where no actual knife and fork execution is required. A rump steak, for instance, hardly needs to be carved, but it has to be cut and helped very neatly, and not distributed in irregular mis-shapen hunks, but rather, as a rule, in oblong finger-shaped pieces, with a nice modicum of fat attached, if possible, but certainly going with each portion of lean. And because meat pies again have to be cut and helped, not carved, the carver, so called, must not look upon them as beneath his consideration.

If he thinks that hashes, curries, ragouts, what-not, do not give him a fair field for the display of his skill with knife and fork, and that, therefore, it does not signify how they are helped, he will be grievously mistaken.

Except where a great number of portions have to be served, avoid the use of the knife sharpener at table: it has always an eating-house effect about it. It is disagreeable to the ear and if executed with the flourish of dexterity, not unfrequently is likely to splash right and left; for unless the knife be wiped previously, and this is a very awkward and unsightly process, some of the juices of the meat inevitably cling to it, to be scraped off against the sharpener, which in its turn is made greasy, and therefore jeopardises the purity of the tablecloth. If, however, a sharpener has to be brought into play, the simplest and most efficacious is the ordinary round butcher’s steel, always supposing the power of using it properly in conjunction with the knife has been acquired. Short of this, the little contrivance consisting of a series of discs overlapping each other, so as to form a wedge-shaped socket with the finest of thin edges conceivable, into which the edge of the knife is dropped and then pushed gently backwards and forwards, is very useful, and may be recommended as fully answering its purpose, and if carefully manipulated entirely without risk. It also is cleaner, less unsightly, and creates less unpleasant noise than the common steel, whilst a child might manage it. At any rate, ladies should always use it in preference to any other sharpening instrument. The habit of feebly drawing the edge of the carving knife downwards, to and fro, against the back edge of another knife, should only be thought of under very pressing circumstances; it is an extremely inelegant action.

Poultry.--Once learn its anatomy and the best method of separating its limbs, and very little more knowledge will enable you to manipulate skilfully any of the feathered tribe. The chicken should lie upon its back at right angles with our line of sight, and its tail end to our left hand. The fine plump breast tempts naturally the insertion of the fork, which should be driven firmly, but delicately, and almost perpendicularly into it, a little to the left of the centre, a prong on either side of the ridge of the breast bone. Secure hold should be at once got by this process of the whole carcase, for if it be intended to cut up the entire fowl at once it may be, and should be all but done without once removing the fork. The next process is to separate the wing, or both wings, and this is done by passing the knife sharply along the line of the breast, as far outside the breast bone as will leave a fair share of meat attached to it, and yet give an ample portion to the wing. Thus, cutting from left to right, and downwards, as we approach the right extremity of the bird, let the knife diverge a little farther outwards, so as to clear the merrythought, and strike the joint of the wing. Unless the creature be of preternatural antiquity, the junction is easily severed, and bone and flesh come away almost with a touch. Having removed both wings in this way, lower the fork hand so as to cant the chicken a little on to its side, and then pass the blade of the knife under the projecting elbow, as we may call it, of the leg, and, forcing it outwards, disengage it too from the body by severing with the point of the knife the joint by which it is still slightly held. Then turn the bird bodily over on to its other side, without removing the fork, and dispose of the second leg in a similar fashion. Restoring then the chicken to its original position, pass the knife transversely across the breast a little to the right of the highest point of the breast bone. Cut down gently, inclining the edge of the blade to the right, press outwards and upwards slightly, and the merrythought comes away. There must be no tearing of the skin; every incision of the knife must go clean through that, for nothing looks worse than to see one portion with the skin half torn away, and hanging in a long ribbon from another. The merrythought is now disposed of by just separating the little joints by which it is still attached when the upper end of its bone has been separated from the breast, and having a nice clean edged covering of skin. Again turn the carcase on to its side, and by an action with the knife, similar to that by which you removed the legs, force away by an upward pressure the two side bones one after the other, that is the two bones which the removal of the merrythought has revealed. There is nothing now to prevent the knife being swept clean through the ribs, and so disengage breast and back. At this stage the fork is withdrawn from the breast, which has now become a trim, tempting, and oblong portion; the back only remains to be dealt with. Turning it over, press the knife firmly down upon the right end of it, and holding it so steadily, lift the left extremity with the fork, and the back is immediately dislocated near the centre; complete the separation by severing with the knife such portions of skin and flesh as may yet cause the joints still to adhere one to the other. Arrange then all these various portions neatly on the dish, and still assuming that the demolition of the whole bird was necessary, it will be ready to serve, remembering that a piece of the liver should go with that wing which has it not. On some occasions--carving for a large number of children to wit--it may be necessary to divide each leg into two portions by severing the thigh bone from the drumstick, as it is called.

Boiled or roast, such is the mode of cutting up a fowl. Supposing, however, that some special part alone is wanted, say the merrythought, it can hardly be got at without first cutting the wing, or wings; not perhaps disengaging them entirely, but certainly so far as to get at the particular joint required. It ensures neatness in the long run, and it is highly essential that a bird, if it reappears at table, should look neither hacked nor mangled. If a fowl approach the proportions of a capon, it will seldom be well to drive the fork into the breast at starting, because then the first thing to be done is to make the breast yield the utmost number of slices; these should be cut, to begin with, from as close to the wing as possible, working upwards on either side till the breast bone be reached. Only when these, the choicest parts of the bird, are distributed, will it be necessary to go into the dissection of the carcase as aforesaid; and it must not be forgotten that under this method the wings are reduced to what may be called a mere picking.

Very special fancies are found to predominate amongst all who partake of poultry, and it is essential that the carver does not neglect to consult each individual’s predilections. A very little experience, too, will show how indispensable it is to have poultry carving knife and fork in exquisite order. The knife must be firm and sharp-pointed, or it will never disengage anything like stubborn joints.

Duck.--The anatomy of the fowl once mastered, that of the duck or duckling becomes immediately patent to the most casual observer. The slight difference which exists in their general conformation, and which arises chiefly from the legs of the duck being set farther back on the body, is not sufficient to require much additional comment; but it may be said that, whereas the wing of the “flyer” is held in the highest repute, so is the leg of the “swimmer”; and when a very small and tender duckling is under the knife, one wing and leg taken off together, without division, will be no more than enough for one portion. The stuffing is got at by cutting open at its lower end, by a semicircular incision, the little apron of skin just below the breast. This should be done so neatly that it falls back into its place when the spoon is withdrawn, and must on no account be left jagged. Nevertheless, the carver should never put any of the stuffing upon a plate without first asking whether it will be agreeable. Some housewives, when a pair of ducks or ducklings appear, allow only one of them to be stuffed, and this is perhaps wise. As with a large chicken, so with a large duck, the most must be made of its breast by cutting the utmost number of long and delicate slices that it will yield, commencing always as close to the wing as possible. Very marked will be the difference in the apparent amount of separate portions which will be got off a duck by a good and a bad carver; and it is only a little exaggeration to say that the good one will make the bird go twice as far as the bad. All sorts of odd out-of-the-way tit-bits can be got off the carcase by any one who has had the wit to keep a watchful eye on a dexterous knight of the carving knife and fork--for practical carving is learned more thoroughly by watching an expert than by any other means. Amongst the tit-bits of a duck some people look upon the feet as very pretty picking, and they should always appear at table, not only for the above reason, but as giving a character to the dish.

Turkey.--The turkey, though looked upon as the king of the poultry yard, is not by any means a subject that calls for a very unusual amount of skill on the part of the carver. Beyond the fact that care should be taken to cut neatly a succession of long slices from the breast, each with its nice little edge of untorn skin, there is really not much for the knife and fork to do. The cutting of slices from the breast should begin as close to the wing as possible, and proceed upwards on both sides, to the ridge of the breast bone. Some people prefer exactly to reverse this process; but it is not important. The stuffing under the breast is got at precisely as in the case of duck. The severing of the wings and legs is only on rare occasions necessary at table, as the breast of the bird usually yields an ample supply for an average number of guests. But in the event of the carver being called on to disjoint a leg or wing, he will only have to draw upon his acquaintance with the anatomy of the chicken. When, on the following day, the remains of a turkey appear in the form of a grill or a devil, the cook should have made any carving of the dish unnecessary.

Goose.--Though the anatomy is similar again to that of the chicken, the greater size and strength of the bird give greater toughness to the joints, and call for the exercise of more force of wrist and hand in their separation. The point of the strong sharp blade must be made to find its way between the bones, as any attempt to cut through them will lead to disaster. Supposing the whole of the breast to be gone, then, and that the leg and wing bones have to be operated on, proceed upon the principles enunciated in the case of the chicken. Turn the bird on one side, and, after forcing with the blade of the knife the projecting angles or elbows of the bones back from the carcase, when coming to the leg, separate the thigh from its socket, which will be a less easy task than in the case of the pinion-bone of the wing. The merrythought, if comparatively a small item for so large a bird as a goose, must be disengaged. The dissection of the remainder of the bird, upon its reappearance as a hash or what-not, will generally devolve upon the cook; but, come in what guise it may, most excellent picking may be found in every quarter. Stuffing is an element of roast goose never to be overlooked; it is to be found and reached in the same way as in the duck. The skin of the apron and elsewhere is, as usual, on no account to be torn off or left ragged, particularly as with this bird it is accounted very choice in flavour.

Guinea Fowl.--Guinea fowl, peahen, or peacock, and other such “strange fowl” as are on rare occasions put before a carver, being in their anatomy sufficiently similar to the turkey for all practical purposes, may be passed over here. Boiled or roast, they must be treated with the same discrimination.

Rabbit.--A rabbit for roasting is somewhat differently trussed to when it is intended for boiling; in the latter case the head is placed on the dish to the right of the carver, and in the former to the left. In both cases, however, the back is the chief point to operate upon. If roast, separate the back on either side from the legs and shoulders; then divide the back into two equal parts; then disengage leg and shoulder one from the other, jointing them according to the number of portions required. If boiled, a very similar process may be adopted; the knife’s point has but to be inserted where a joint appears, and it yields to the slightest pressure. Very seldom is the rabbit substantial enough to justify its treatment after the manner of the hare--that is, by taking slices out of the back, and so on, down to the limbs, without disengaging them; but where the bulk of the animal is sufficient to allow of this, it is certainly the more tempting, easy, and appetising method.

Pigeon.--Beyond bringing into play the strength and neatness which are demanded whenever actual bone has to be severed, there is little to be done with knife and fork. If the bird be divided cleanly into two equal parts by a sharp strong cut right through everything, as it were, from beak to tail, each portion must be further manipulated by those before whom it is placed; the carver has no further concern with it. But should it be necessary to divide a pigeon into 3 portions, then 2 legs and 2 wings will make 2 out of the 3--if, in cutting them off, the carver is careful to leave enough meat on the breast to allow of that being presented as the third.

Game.--Woodcock.--When a woodcock is under the knife and fork, the carver will be very careful to examine the toast, to see that all the trail is upon it, or rather that the liver, which is the essential element of the trail, is not still left within the body. To do this he may with a slight touch of the knife, when he has secured the breast with the fork, force back the legs, and so, by disengaging the back, turn the bird as it were inside out; the liver will then fall upon the toast, and should be spread upon it evenly, with the addition of a little pat of butter, pepper, and salt, and a squeeze of lemon. As to cutting up the woodcock, the task is very simple. The bird may be divided into 2 or 3--the breast for one, and each leg and wing for the second and third portions; but, as the back is very small, and yet very choice, it had better be reserved for the special friend, seeing that there is not enough of it to divide; the thighs, however, are accounted almost equal bonnes bouches.

Snipe.--Perhaps the next amongst the “trail birds” to rank with the woodcock, who is the king of them all, is the snipe. He will generally, upon his modicum of toast, form not too large a portion for one good appetite; but he may be made to do for two less robust, by splitting him exactly in twain upon the usual plan. This is a bird that brooks no delay in the helping. He should be eaten hissing hot.

Plover.--The plover calls for no special directions. Larger than the snipe, but smaller than the woodcock, he may be treated according to the appetites--halved, trebled, or presented upon one plate whole, with the toast as a matter of course. If for plover or snipe we read “quail,” what has been said above will be all that is necessary. The ortolan also might be included. The hints anent the disposal of the liver, &c., on the toast, under the woodcock, may be taken to apply, more or less, to all similar arrangements. The carver should be careful to eliminate the little sandbag or crop, which sometimes may be found in close proximity to the liver; otherwise, if spread upon the toast, its grit will render the whole entirely uneatable.

Wild fowl.--Like turkey or goose, wild duck (and indeed all wild fowl, including the teal and widgeon) offers to the carver the most tempting of breasts, whence to cut away a succession of delicate slices; but he may not remove these until he has inserted sparingly a sprinkling of cayenne pepper between the scorings he has made with his knife, and given an ample squeeze of lemon over them, to drive the pepper well into the interstices. The breast alone is held to be the choice portion of the bird, though there is pretty picking elsewhere, but further dissection of him, when necessary, for immediate or future purposes, such as hashes, &c., may be carried on upon the oft-referred-to chicken principles.

Landrail.--The landrail, not often met with at table, may be easily carved by treating him like a snipe; he is trussed in the same manner, but of course is trailless.

Hare.--The hare stands pre-eminent amongst game, and is so generally popular, and yields so much capital eating, that it should be looked upon as a very special dish for the carver. The head on the left of the carver and the body lying at right angles to the line of sight, slices are cut out of the back all along its length from left to right. Clean, neat, and regular should they be, each with its nice little edge of brown skin; and when, from both sides of the spine, all the meat has been cut away, both the legs must be disengaged by a sharp incision, much after the manner in which the wing of a chicken is removed. Then the shoulders, by a semicircular cut round the joint, are displaced, the point of the knife feeling for the junction at the socket of the bone. Next, in the same way, let the knife travel to about the centre of the back, the carver feeling with its point for a favourable nick in the vertebræ through which, with some little exercise of strength, he may drive the blade, and so divide the body in two. The stuffing must be served in moderation with each portion; and, as the remnants of a hare are generally turned to good account, it is as well, except under extraordinary circumstances, not to serve any of the bones upon the plates, but to cut as neat-looking slices as may be from shoulders and legs. Plenty of gravy should also be helped from the dish by the carver, in addition to that served separately; otherwise the portions may look unattractively dry when first placed before the guest. All parts of a hare are so full of flavour, that, beyond the fact that the back is usually the most tender, there is little superiority in it. The ears and brain are amongst the extra little tit-bits affected by the connoisseur.

Partridge.--Roast partridge usually coming, as it does, at the close of the feast, a very small portion of bird should be served to each guest; in this case, cut him up precisely as you would a chicken, and all at once, without removing the fork; and, by thus making him go as far as possible, you do as much justice to the excellence of the bird as the vagaries of custom will allow. Of course, the choicest morsels, the wings, the breast, and the merrythought, that is, should go to the more delicate appetites; but that is no reason why legs and back should be comparatively wasted, as they often are, when accompanied on the plate by more fleshy pieces, or be left neglected by the carver on the dish. He who knows anything of the flavour of game will be as well contented with the head and back, or leg of a young partridge in good condition as with any other part of it, if it come at the customary tail end of a dinner, and when a mere taste is all that is expected or desirable. But when the partridge appears as a very important element at a choice repast, then hand him over bodily one bird on a hot-water plate to each guest, and so evade all carving responsibilities; or, short of this, cleave him in twain, fairly from beak to tail, as a pigeon, and let no more than two discuss him; or, once again, at the most, cut him into three, as also directed with the pigeon.

Pheasant.--Treat the pheasant with similar deference; for, if young and in good condition, though one part may be better than another, there is no part open to disdain. According to the size of the bird so may you cut him up, but, as a rule, his breast will yield a sufficient number of slices to make it advisable to deal with him in the manner advocated for a turkey; otherwise he has to be dissected entirely as if he were a chicken, remembering at the same time that, according to the position he occupies in the menu, so should your helping be proportioned. If he represent in any way the pièce de résistance, be fairly bountiful, not giving a slice of the breast alone to one person, but some extra “snack” of picking with it, thus letting the choice, and the less choice, morsels be duly blended. On the other hand, if the pheasant come up to table at the usual conventional time, the slices from the breast will be generally enough to go round, if the carver allows no slice to reach the magnitude of anything beyond a taste. He may know if a cock pheasant (cock pheasants are generally the better) be young or old by a glance at the spurs--the short and blunt indicating youth, sharp and long the reverse; and it is well for the carver to note this at starting, as it will prepare him for the amount of strength he will have to put forth in separating the joints. Bread sauce and gravy, as with the partridge, are served separately; but should there be a toast beneath the bird upon the dish, a piece of the toast must go with each portion, a search for the stuffing be entered on, and some of it dispensed.

Grouse.--Beyond putting a very strong emphasis on the value of the back of the grouse, we need only refer to what has been said of the partridge to know how to deal with him. He is worthy in every way of the same high consideration, either as one, two or three portions; but if cut up into this latter or more quantities, a piece of the back must go with each, if the carver regard justice as a leading element of his craft. The habit now of not sending up the bird’s head is, some think, reprehensible; as, like that of the pheasant and partridge, the skull if split in two offers a delicate morsel in the shape of the brain. A piece of the toast, too, usually to be found beneath the grouse should find its way to everybody’s plate.

Blackcock.--Being of the genus grouse, here will be the place to say what one has to say about the blackcock; and once more a knowledge of the chicken’s anatomy will be the key to the whole position. The tenderness and delicacy of the flesh, however, of game birds make them less favourable subjects for the young carver to experimentalise upon. The thigh of this bird is held by the epicure as the portion which attains the culminating flavour. Therefore, though slices may be cut from the breast to begin with in the usual fashion, they may not trench upon this tit-bit, which should be preserved intact for the special friend or friends, since there are two thighs. To decapitate this bird, and to send him to table headless, is to deprive some one of an exquisite bonne bouche. When cut in two, there is very pretty picking about the head; and whilst on the dish it serves at once to mark this distinguished member of the feathered community.

Capercailzie.--The capercailzie, though very seldom met with at the ordinary English dinner table, may not be overlooked here, for, though a very much larger bird than grouse or blackcock, it is yet to be ranked amongst the same species. In fact, it is a woodland grouse, and sometimes attains the size of a goodly turkey; which is as much as to say, from our point of view, that we should treat him accordingly.

Ptarmigan.--Ptarmigan, too, though less uncommon and smaller than the capercailzie, would not need any especial dissection, and has merely to be cut up according to his size; whilst of course the buttered toast on which he is served may, or may not, be partaken of; and it is just as well for the carver to inquire.

In dispensing any rare or unusual bird it is quite essential that the carver should point out to those at table who are unacquainted with its precise character what it is, and recommend this or that particular part to their consideration. Also in the matter of toast, when it may contain the trail of game, the carver should be very careful not to give any of it to those who may happen to dislike it. There are many people who will only eat game when it is quite fresh, and who would shudder at the thought of consuming the trail.

=Dinners.=--To commence with the manner of eating soup. In olden days it was customary to “drink” it out of a basin. In these days no one “drinks” soup--it is “eaten”; whether it be mock turtle or the clearest Julienne, it is eaten out of a soup plate at dinner, and with a tablespoon. To use a dessertspoon for this purpose is not comme il faut. There is a reason in this: soup is nothing if not hot; and, as it is the custom to give but a very small help of soup--about half a ladleful to each person--it is eaten quicker and hotter with a large spoon. The reason for small helps of soup is that the various courses to follow do not render it expedient to commence with a plateful of soup. At ball suppers, when soup is served in soup plates, it is also eaten with a tablespoon; but when served in small cups a spoon is not used, and it is actually drunk, although fashion does not sanction the expression “I have drunk some soup.”

For fish, the two dinner forks are now superseded by the little silver fish knife and fork. When oysters are given, however, they precede the soup, and are eaten with an ordinary dinner fork, and not with the fish fork. In eating oysters the shell is steadied on the plate with the fingers of the left hand; the oysters are not cut, but are eaten whole. Large dinners are ordered mainly with a view to please the palates of men with epicurean tastes; it is not expected that ladies should eat of the most highly seasoned and richest dishes, but should rather select the plainest. This particularly applies to young ladies and young married ladies; and there are certain things that young ladies are not supposed to eat of at dinner, although handed to them in their turn--as, for instance, marrow patties, foie gras patties, snipe with trail, woodcock with trail, caviare, bloater cheese. Small helps of fish are always given.

Some entrées are eaten with a knife and fork, others with a fork only. All entrées that offer any resistance to a fork being passed through them require the aid of both knife and fork, such as cutlets, filet de bœuf, sweetbreads, &c.; but when rissoles, patties, quenelles, boneless curry, vol-au-vents, timbales, minces, &c., are eaten, the fork is used and the knife is discarded. In the case of the lighter entrées, the contact of the knife is supposed to militate against their delicate flavour, and with regard to the pastry of patties and vol-au-vents, it would be considered bad style were a knife to be used in addition to the fork.

When game is eaten, it is needless to say that the old licence for holding a bone delicately between the fingers and thumb has long since expired. The leg of a chicken, pheasant, duck, or wild duck is never given to a guest as a help, save on those occasions when there are more guests present than there are helps from breasts and wings to offer them. Under these circumstances the carver is reduced to the necessity of falling back upon the legs; but in this case only the upper part of the thigh is given, the drumstick being cut off--thus a guest has little difficulty in separating the meat from the bone. The wing of a bird, however, is a very usual help given to a lady. Formerly it was thought a correct thing to sever the wing at the joint, and then to cut the meat from the bone; but this required a certain amount of strength in the wrist and dexterity of action, as, if the bird happened to be not of the youngest, there was a chance that a nervous or clumsy young lady would lodge one half of the wing on the tablecloth; so the fair recipients of a wing in the present day do not run this risk or take this trouble, but simply cut off from the bone the meat that is easily got at, leaving those morsels about which there is the slightest difficulty. An inexperienced carver occasionally gives the gizzard with the wing, and some inexperienced young ladies make an attempt to eat it; the gizzard should not be left in the wing by the carver. In the case of small pigeons, golden plovers, snipe, quails, larks, &c., a whole bird is given to each help, and the proper way to eat these birds is to cut the meat from the breast and wings, and to eat each morsel at the moment of cutting it; the bird should not be turned over and over on the plate, or cut in half, or otherwise dissected. The legs of Bordeaux pigeons are not as a rule eaten, and half a bird only is given, as there is sufficient meat on the wing and breast to satisfy an ordinary second-course appetite; when the legs of smaller birds are eaten, such as snipe or golden plover, the meat is cut off as from breast or wing. Young ladies, as a rule, do not eat these birds, or any second-course delicacy of this description; a help of chicken or pheasant, on the contrary, is usually accepted by them.

On the subject of vegetables there is but little to be said; when large potatoes are served in their skins, a salad plate is offered at the same time, so this difficulty is thus provided for. When asparagus first comes into season, it is often given in the second course instead of in the first, in which case it is eaten as a separate dish; when it is handed with meat or poultry, it is eaten on the same plate containing either; and although served on toast, the toast is not meant to be eaten, and it is merely intended to receive the superfluous moisture from the asparagus. In eating asparagus, elderly gentlemen still hold the stalks in their fingers; the younger generation cut off the points of the asparagus with a knife and fork; but asparagus tongs render helping an easy matter. Seakale is often given in the second course when first in season; the toast on which this is served is also not eaten. When mushrooms are served on toast, this toast is generally eaten. Seakale is eaten with a knife and fork. Artichokes are an awkward and untidy vegetable to eat: they are only given in the second course as a separate vegetable. The outside leaves are removed with the knife and fork, and the inner leaves, which surround the heart or head of the artichoke, are conveyed to the mouth with the fingers, and sucked dry; epicures consider these a “dainty morsel,” but at a dinner party young ladies would not attempt to eat them.

Savouries are not eaten by young ladies when they dine out, and seldom in the home circle. Savouries of the description of macaroni with cheese, cheese fondus, cheese straws, cheese soufflés, choufleur au gratin, olives, &c.--these things are not supposed to suit the palates of young ladies. In eating sweets, a dessertspoon is only used for compotes of fruit or fruit tarts, or those dishes where juice or syrup prevails to the extent of rendering a dessertspoon necessary. But whenever it is possible to use a fork in preference to a spoon, it is always better to do so; and jellies, creams, blancmanges, ice puddings, &c., are always eaten with a fork.

As a matter of course, young ladies do not eat cheese at dinner parties. The usual mode of eating cheese is to cut it in small square pieces, and place it with the knife on a morsel of bread, and then convey the bread to the mouth with the fingers. When celery is given with cheese, it is cut into fair-sized mouthfuls, which are put in the mouth with the fingers, and bites are not taken from a stick of celery held between the fingers schoolboy fashion. Salad is always eaten with the joint, off small salad plates, placed on the left side of the dinner plate; it is eaten with the knife and fork.

To turn from dinner to dessert. Ices are eaten with a small gold ice spoon. Fruits that require peeling--such as peaches, apricots, nectarines, &c.--are peeled with a dessert knife and fork, and eaten with a spoon and fork, as are oranges. Pears and apples are peeled and eaten with a knife and fork, as is pine or melon; with the latter a spoon also is required. Strawberries are also eaten with a spoon and fork when cream is given with them, otherwise they are held by their stalks and dipped into powdered sugar. Cherries, gooseberries, grapes, and currants are also eaten with the fingers, and so on down the gamut of fruit. A slice of dessert cake is broken and eaten as bread would be, and is not cut with the knife into small pieces. The finger glasses are used after fruit has been eaten, and the tips of the fingers are then dipped into the water and dried on the serviette with as little parade as possible, always bearing in mind that the serviette is not a chamber towel or the finger glass a washhand basin, and also that, when the serviette is used for wiping the lips, it should be done quickly and deftly, attracting as little notice as possible, as it is not a pretty sight to see a person deliberately occupied in wiping their mouth or their moustache again and again during dinner; a lady must be a very untidy eater who requires to wipe her mouth constantly during dinner.

When liqueurs are handed with the ices, young ladies are not expected to take them, and, as a rule, a young lady would not drink more than half a glass of sherry with soup or fish, one glass of champagne during dinner, or a glass of sherry if champagne is not given, and half a glass of sherry at dessert. A married lady would perhaps drink a glass and a half of champagne at dinner, in addition to a glass of sherry with fish or soup. Some ladies drink less than this, and others perhaps a little more, and if a lady does not intend drinking more wine than remains in her glass, she should make a little motion of dissent when the butler is about to replenish it. Otherwise a good glass of wine is sent away untasted; and in all cases when a lady only intends drinking half a glass of wine, it would be no breach of etiquette for her to say to the butler at the moment of his offering her wine, “Only half a glass, please;” good wine is a costly luxury, and should never be unnecessarily wasted, even by a guest at a dinner party.

Bills of Fare.--The following are selected from a very large number, which have been published from time to time in the Queen.

For 2.--(a) Brunoise. Sole au gratin. Filets de bœuf aux champignons. Pommes de terre sautés. Roast blackcock. Stuffed tomatoes. Tartelettes Piémontaises. (b) Potage à la Cussy. Perches sur le gril. Poule au riz à la Milanaise. Haricots verts en salade. Omelette au jambon. (c) Consommé au riz. Filets de soles à la Béchamel. Côtelettes du mouton panées aux tomates. Haricots verts à la Lyonnaise. Parmesan. Tourte de Reine-claudes. (d) Brunoise. Friture d’éperlans. Hachis de veau aux œufs pochés. Cailles rôties. Salade de laitue et cresson. Gateau de pommes de terre.

For 2 or 3.--(a) Croûte au pot. Boiled salmon, fennel sauce. Roast quails. Watercress salad. Asparagus. Cream cheese. Gooseberry tartlets. (b) Bonne femme soup. Sole au gratin. Boiled mutton cutlets. Carrots à la maître d’hôtel. Rice soufflé. (c) Potage aux pointes d’asperges. Whitebait. Filet de bœuf rôti à la Française. New potatoes au beurre. Lettuce salad. Cheese fondue. (d) Spring soup. Red mullets in papers. Fricandeau with spinach. Asparagus. Macaroni cheese. Iced gooseberry fool. (e) Potage à la jardinière. Saumon grillé à la Tartare. Côtelettes de mouton aux concombres. Roast grouse. Watercress. Salad of French beans. Greengage tartlets. (f) Grouse soup. Fried eels. Stewed steak. Mashed potatoes. Vegetable marrow au gratin. Macaroni cheese. Apple tart. (g) Tomato soup. Grey Mullet. Sauce blanche. Braised loin of mutton. Potatoes à la Lyonnaise. Stuffed vegetable marrow. Cheese fritters. Plum tart. (h) Julienne. Fried fillets of sole, tartare sauce. Hashed venison. French beans au beurre. Macaroni au gratin. Apricot omelet. (i) Consommé aux haricots verts. Filets de maquereaux à l’Italienne. Croquettes de volaille. Côtelettes de mouton à la Nivernaise. Tomates farcies. Gruyère. Tourte aux abricots. (j) Consommé au riz. Truite saumonée grillée à la Tartare. Grenadins de bœuf à l’Espagnole. Salade de homard en aspic. Génoises. Compôte de framboises et groseilles. (k) Potage au vermicelle. Rougets sauce aux câpres. Rissoles de homard. Fricassée de poulet. Haricots verts à la Lyonnaise. Omelette au parmesan. Salade de fruits. (l) Potage au pauvre homme. Côtelettes de mouton, pommes de terre à la maître d’hôtel. Asperges, sauce poivrade. Omelette au jambon. (m) Croûte au pot. Filets de sole à l’Italienne. Braised loin of mutton. Navets glacés. Salade de choufleurs. Cheese straws. Caramel custards. (n) Potage au macaroni. Saumon sauté au beurre. Cuisses de poulets au riz à la Turque. Broccoli sprout salad. Fondue au Parmesan. (o) Potage aux œufs pochés. Croustades de volaille à la suprême. Filets de bœuf grillés aux pommes de terre. Choufleurs au gratin. Chartreuse de pêches. (p) One dozen oysters. Consommé de volaille aux quenelles. Chartreuse de perdrix. Grenadins de bœuf à l’Espagnole. Petits soufflés au Parmesan. Salade d’oranges. (q) Purée of celery. Fried smelts. Lark, steak, and kidney pudding. Mashed potatoes. Spanish onions stuffed. Cheese. Apple fritters. (r) Purée of lentils. Boiled haddock and egg sauce. Hashed mutton. Mashed potatoes. Seakale. Cheese. Ginger pudding. (s) Potage au pauvre homme. Raie au beurre noir. Côtelettes de mouton au naturel. Purée de pommes de terre. Omelette au Parmesan. Tartelettes de pommes. (t) Julienne. Cabillaud à la crème. The legs of a turkey devilled, purée of chestnuts. Cauliflower salad. Mince pies. (u) Potage au macaroni. Sole au gratin. Civet de lièvre aux champignons. Choux de Bruxelles à la maître d’hôtel. Mirlitons aux confitures. (v) Onion soup. Broiled whiting. Stewed steak. Haricot bean salad. Fig pudding. (w) Chestnut soup. Mutton croquettes and cauliflower. Roast teal. Celery à la sauce blanche. Cheese. Sweet omelet. (x) Potage à la purée de laitues. Vol-au-vent of cod. Epigrammes de mouton aux tomates. Chartreuse de perdrix. Œufs au gratin. Biscuit au mocha. (y) Croûte au pot. Côtelettes de mouton en papillote. Stewed steak. Mashed potatoes. Vegetable marrow au gratin. New Forest cream cheese. Pommes au beurre. (z) Purée of endives. Slices of cod, Italian sauce. Quenelles of rabbit, with minced olives. Roast partridges. Tomatoes stuffed with mushrooms. Fondue. Génoise pastry, with whipped cream.

For 3 in August.--Lazagne. Rougets en papillote. Côtelettes de mouton à la Soubise. Grenadins de chevreuil, sauce groseille. Artichauts, sauce blanche. Roast grouse. Croûte d’ananas.

For 3 in September.--Potage à la jardinière. Filets de soles à la cardinal. Cromesquis de perdreaux. Côtelettes de mouton à la Soubise. Haricots verts à la poulette. Grouse. Pouding soufflé purée de prunes.

For 3 or 4.--(a) Potage à la purée d’asperges. Whitebait. Côtelettes d’agneau aux concombres. Cailles rôties, salade de laitue. Macaroni au gratin. Gooseberry tartlets. (b) Potage à la jardinière. Sea bream, sauce piquante. Fricassée de poulets. Filet de bœuf rôti à la Française. New potatoes au beurre. Green artichokes à la sauce blanche. Petits soufflés au Parmesan. Compote d’oranges. (c) Purée de gibier Cabillaud à la crème. Aloyau rôti à l’Anglaise. Choux de Bruxelles au jus. Pommes de terre au naturel. Macaroni au gratin. Beignets de pommes. (d) Potage aux pâtés d’Italie. Filets de soles à la Orly. Fricandeau aux épinards. Wild ducks, bigarrade sauce. Salade pommes de terre. Stewed cheese. Rice soufflé. (e) Palestine soup. Fried whitings. Croquettes of beef, Brussels sprouts. Roast pheasant. Watercresses. Scolloped oysters. Omnibus pudding. (f) Brunoise. Sole à la ravigotte. Filets de bœuf à la jardinière. Plovers (3 or 4). Croustades aux huîtres. Beignets soufflés. (g) Oyster soup. Baked John Dory. Mutton cutlets en papillote. Roast pheasant. Cauliflower au gratin. Génoises au chocolat. (h) Croûte au pot. Rouget grondin au Madère. Côtelettes de mouton, purée de pommes de terre. Bécasses rôties (3 or 4). Chouxfleur en salade. Pommes à la Condé. (i) Macaroni soup. Cod and oyster sauce. Roast goose, apple sauce, potatoes, Brussels sprouts. Cheese. Damson tart. Vanille custards. (j) Potage à la royale. Matelotte de harengs aux champignons. Croustades de volaille. Grenadins de veau à la macédoine. Filet de bœuf rôti à la Française. Salade de cresson. Tomates au gratin. Gruyère. Charlotte de pommes. Omelette au rhum. (k) Potage à la Sévigné. Oyster kromeskies. Côtelettes à la Maintenon. Roast capercailzie. Watercress salad. Peas (preserved) à la Française. Ramequins. Sir Watkin Wynn’s pudding. (l) Consommé aux nouilles. Sea bream au Madère. Veal cutlets à la Milanaise. Braised fowls à la jardinière. Fondue au Parmesan. Bakewell pudding. Salad of oranges. (m) Celery soup. Haddock and egg sauce. Grenadins of beef à l’Espagnole. Cauliflowers à la crème. Potatoes sautées. Larks à la minute. Stewed cheese. Mirlitons au cassis. (n) Brunoise. Maquereaux grillés, à la maître d’hôtel. Fricandeau--New potatoes à la Lyonnaise. Boiled ham--Petits pois à l’Anglaise. Œufs au gratin. Beignets d’oranges. (o) Consommé aux pointes d’asperges. Fried fillet of soles, cold tartare sauce. Ris de veau aux champignons. Rumpsteak au beurre d’anchois. Pommes de terre sautées. Salade de laitue. York cream cheese. Soufflé à la vanille.

For 4 in August.--(a) Tortue claire. John Dory, sauce Hollandaise. Petits pâtés à la financière. Côtelettes d’agneau aux concombres. Roast neck of venison. French beans. Tartelettes d’abricots. Gelée au marasquin. (b) Consommé de volaille. Grilled trout, tartare sauce. Rissoles de volaille. Timbales de foie gras aux truffes. Côtelettes de mouton à la Réforme. Boiled chickens. Artichokes. Ices.

For 4-6.--(a) Spring soup. Broiled salmon, tartare sauce. Whitebait. Lamb cutlets, spinach. Rump steak, fried potatoes. Roast quails, salad. Asparagus. Macaroni cheese. Apple soufflé. (b) Clear mock turtle. Boiled salmon, Dutch sauce. Beef olives. Roast quarter of lamb, new potatoes, salad. Curried eggs. Cheese. Rhubarb Tartlets. Meringues with cream. (c) Consommé au pointes d’asperges. Codfish au gratin. Grenadins of beef à la macédoine. Braised capons, stuffed mushrooms. New potatoes. Seakale. Cheese. Watercress-butter. Mousseline pudding. Chartreuse of oranges. (d) Potage printanier. Fillets of mackerel, Italian sauce. Mutton cutlets, stewed peas. Wild duck, bigarrade sauce. Cheese fritters. Bakewell pudding. (e) Potage crecy au riz. Fried whitings. Filets de pigeons en caisses. Braised loin of mutton, Soubise sauce. Turnip-top salad. Stewed cheese. Orange fritters. (f) Consommé au céleri. Salmon grilled à la maître d’hôtel. Croquettes de volaille. Paupiettes de bœuf à l’Espagnole. Pintade rôtie au cresson. New potatoes sautées au beurre. Asperges, sauce blanche. Omelette au Parmesan. Bouchées aux confitures. Nougats à la crème.

For 6.--(a) Potage à la Sévigné. Brill au Madère. Mutton cutlets à la Maintenon. Braised fowls à la jardinière. Cheese tartlets. Fig pudding. Compote of oranges. (b) Potage aux nouilles. Vol-au-vent of cod and oysters. Roast haunch of mutton. Seakale. Potatoes. Canapés of anchovies. Cheese and celery. Rhubarb tart. Vanille custards. (c) Potage aux ravioli. Torbay whitings à la Hollandaise. Filets de pluviers aux truffes. Rump steak, potatoes sautés. Choux frisés à la flamandes. Watercress-butter and cheese. Beignets d’oranges. Caramel pudding. (d) Potage au macaroni. Baked gurnet. Quenelles of veal à la nivernaise. Grenadins of beef with peas. Roast partridges. Neufchâtel cheese. Watercress-butter and celery. Mousseline pudding. Damson tartlets. (e) Tomato sauce. Grey mullet à la maître d’hôtel. Oyster kromeskies. Mutton cutlets sautées with French beans. Roast goose. Lettuce salad. Parmesan fondue. Tourte of greengages. Marmalade pudding. (f) Clear oxtail soup. Boiled salmon, sauce tartare, cucumber. Lamb cutlets with peas. Roast ducklings. Cherry tart, cream. Anchovy toast. Cream cheese and Gorgonzola, handed with brown biscuits. Strawberries and cherries. (g) Clear gravy soup with peas. Salmon cutlets with piquant sauce. Hashed duck. Roast loin of lamb boned and stuffed, mint sauce, French beans, potatoes, purée of peas. Fresh strawberry cream, apricot fritters. Cheese fondue, watercress sandwiches. Strawberries and melon. (h) Giblet soup. Fillets of sole à la maître d’hôtel. Rissoles of lamb. Roast chicken with watercress, purée of haricot beans, potatoes, stewed vegetable marrow. Currant and raspberry tart, whipped cream. Cheese canapés, tomato salad. Cherries and apricots. (i) Potage à la Duchesse. Potage à la purée de levraut. Sole à la Normande. Filets de rougets aux fines herbes. Mauviettes en caisses au gratin. Fricassée de poulet à la chevalière. Côtelettes de venaison aux haricots verts. Grouse. Madelienes. Pouding à la Nesselrode.

For 6-8.--(a) Potage aux pâtés d’Italie. Saumon, sauce aux câpres. Kromeskies de volaille. Tendrons de veau aux petits pois. Filets de bœuf à la Béarnaise. Cailles rôties. Haricots verts à la crème. Ramequins. Salade de fraises aux oranges. Boudin glacé à la vanille. (b) Bisque de homards. Petites croustades aux huîtres. Filets de soles à la Normande. Saumon, sauce au fenouil. Salade Russe. Œufs farcis à la royale. Soufflé de riz à la vanille. Mirlitons au marasquin. Bouchées aux confitures. (c) Bouillabaisse. Friture d’éperlans. Turbot, sauce Hollandaise. Macaroni aux tomates. Fonds d’artichauts à la sauce blanche. Salade de choufleurs. Fondue au Parmesan. Charlotte de pommes. Petits choux à la crème. (d) Potage à l’oseille. Turbot, lobster sauce. Poulet sauté à l’estragon. Boudins de veau aux truffes. Filet de bœuf braisé à la jardinière. Haricots verts en salade. Fondue au Parmesan. Chartreuse à l’ananas. Compote de cerises. (e) Consommé de volaille aux quenelles. Paupiettes de soles à la crème. Kromeskies de homard. Côtelettes d’agneau aux tomates. Canetons rôtis. Petits pois au beurre. Vegetable marrow au gratin. Tartelettes de Reine Claudes. Boudin glacé au café.

For 8.--(a) Vermicelli soup. Trout à la Genevese, salmon cutlets. Lamb cutlets and peas. Fricasséed chicken. Roast ribs of beef. Calf’s head, tongue, and brains; boiled ham; with vegetables. Roast ducks, compote of gooseberries, strawberry jelly, Italian pastry, iced pudding. Dessert and ices. (b) Julienne soup. Filleted soles, with shrimp sauce. Croquettes de veau. Ragout of kidneys and mushrooms. Roast turkey and sausages, with cauliflower and potatoes. Trifle and mince pies. Grapes, preserved ginger, &c.

For 8-10.--(a) Clear oxtail soup. Boiled turbot, lobster sauce. Stewed pigeons. Mutton cutlets, sharp sauce. Roast sirloin of beef. Broccoli, mashed potatoes, seakale. Wild ducks. Cheese, celery, anchovy toast. Sir Watkin Wynn’s pudding. Maraschino jelly. Cheesecakes. Apple tartlets. (b) Clear game soup. Boiled salmon, fennel sauce. Fricassée of fowls with mushrooms. Grenadins of veal with spinach. Braised saddle of mutton, with carrots, turnips, and broccoli. Roast guinea-fowl larded. Lettuce salads. Cauliflower with cheese. Orange jelly. Charlotte Russe. Génoise pastry. Apricot tartlets. Nesselrode pudding. (c) Croûte au pot. Two sea-breams stewed. Fried fillets of soles, tartare sauce. Larks in cases. Grenadins of beef with Brussels sprouts. Braised saddle of mutton. Stewed celery. Roast woodcocks. Endive salad. Macaroni au gratin. Charlotte Russe, mousseline pudding. Croûtes of pineapple. Génoises au chocolat. (d) Consommé aux quenelles. Boiled turbot. Lobster sauce. Croquettes of game. Mutton cutlets and spinach. Fresh silverside of beef à la Napolitaine. Cauliflowers à la crème, potato sautées. Roast wild ducks, bigarade sauce. Russian salad. Tartlettes Piémontaises. Nougats à la crème. Jam tartlets. Venus pudding. Garibaldi cream. (e) Potage à la Sévigné. Matelotte d’anguilles. Friture de merlans. Croustades de volaille. Salmis de perdreaux. Fricandeau aux tomates. Grouse rôties. Salade de cresson. Œufs farcis à la royale. Beignets de pêches. Génoises au chocolat. Boudin glacé aux fruits.

For 10.--(a) Clear consommé aux pointes d’asperges. White soup à la bonne femme. Small turbot, sauce tartare. Fried smelts. Larded sweetbreads, braised and served with rich brown gravy. Fillets of chicken à la poulette, with white button mushrooms and truffles. Saddle of mutton. Roast pheasants or partridges. Apple charlotte, meringues à la crème de vanille. Cheese soufflé. (b) Bouillabaisse. Quenelles truffled. Cutlets à la J’aidit. Quails and salad. Iced artichokes. Ham and green peas. Sardines on toast. Parmesan omelette. Ices.

For 10-12.--(a) Oyster soup. Red mullet. Stewed pigeons. Boiled capon and tongue (celery sauce). Curried mutton. Stewed pears and cream. Apple jelly. (b) Tomato soup. John Dory. Oyster vol-au-vent. Braised beef. Partridges. Trifle. Apple fritters. (c) Julienne soup. Fillets of soles. Oyster patties. Mutton cutlets. Kromeskies. Roast beef. Boiled turkey. Guinea-fowls. Lemon soufflé. Cabinet pudding. Meringues. Apricot cream. Cheesecakes. (d) Spring soup. Turbot and lobster sauce. Sweetbreads. Mutton cutlets with Soubise sauce. Croquettes. Saddle of mutton. Chickens and tongue. Wild ducks. Soufflé. Castle pudding. Trifle. Orange jelly.

For 12-14.--(a) Mulligatawny; clear gravy soup. Braised salmon; stewed eels; fried smelts. Fricandeau of veal with spinach; pork cutlets with tomato sauce; croquettes of fowl with tartare sauce; curried lobster, rice. Boiled capon; tongue; saddle of mutton, laver, broccoli, potatoes. Woodcocks or wild ducks. Conservative pudding, raspberry cream, calf’s foot jelly. Cheese fondue. (b) Bisque d’écrevisses. Petites croustades, purée de gibier. Filets de soles à la Russe. Gigot de chevreuil, sauce poivrade. Faisans à la Bohémienne. Timbales milanaises. Mousse à l’ananas. Dinde truffée. Salade Italienne. Cardons à l’Espagnole. Pâté de foie gras. Suprême de pêches. Plombière aux avelines. Dessert. (c) Potage velours. Caisses de volailles. Saumon-sauce crevettes. Suprême de poularde à la Maréchale. Salmis de bécasses. Aspic de foie gras au vert pré. Sorbets au Kirsch. Dinde truffée. Salade Russe. Cêpes à la Bordelaise. Homard, sauce remoulade. Croûte Parisienne à l’ananas. Corbeille de fruits glacés. Dessert.

Plain Dinners for a Week.--Sunday: White soup. Turbot, sauce Hollandaise. Braised loin of veal, potatoes and parsnips. Roast fowls. Swiss pudding. Orange sponge. Monday: Vegetable soup. Hashed turbot. Burdoan stew, potatoes. Minced veal, calecannon. Coconut pudding. Caledonian cream. Boiled cheese. Tuesday: Soles. Rice and chicken cutlet. Leg of mutton, currant jelly, Spanish onions, brown potatoes. Sponge cake pudding. Dutch cream. Scotch woodcock. Wednesday: Crécy soup. Cod steaks, with mock oyster sauce. Reform cutlets, carrots. Stewed rabbit and risotto. Newcastle pudding. Jelly. Cheese and celery. Thursday: Italian soup. Mutton cutlets. Bouilli beef, potato and Brussels sprouts. Sir Watkin Wynn’s pudding. Prune mould. Macaroni and cheese. Friday: Artichoke soup. Red mullet. Mutton cooked to imitate venison, cauliflower à l’Allemagne. Potato pears. Tapioca snow. Jelly. Anchovy toast. Saturday: Fish, dressed cold or hot. Indian curry. Beefsteak pudding. Brown bread pudding and jam sauce. Dutch flummery.

Lenten and Vegetarian Dinners.--(a) Bouillabaisse. Fried smelts. Turbot, Dutch sauce. Macaroni with tomatoes. Green artichokes, white sauce. Cauliflower salad. Parmesan fondue. Apple charlotte. Baked fritters and custard. (b) Haricot bean soup. Cod (Brandade de Morue). Fried soles. Turnip tops and poached eggs. Stewed potatoes. Savoury omelet. Cheese. Pancakes. (c) Oysters (au naturel) served with lemon. Potage maigre au lait. Fillets of sole fried, tartare sauce. Parsnip fritters. Purée of haricots. Boiled salmon, shrimp sauce. Potatoes mashed in shape. Lobster salad. Rhubarb fool. Rice meringue. Anchovy toast, with eggs. Gorgonzola cheese. Celery. Biscuits. Dessert. (d) Haricot bean soup. Lobster croquettes. Fillets of soles with mushrooms. Red mullet, Italian sauce. Turbot, Dutch sauce. Poached eggs with spinach. Cauliflower with cheese. Macaroni with tomatoes. Mousseline pudding. Jam tartlets. Pineapple toast. Chocolate cream. (e) Green pease soup. Potato omelette, curried eggs. French beans stewed, cauliflowers and white sauce, new potatoes plain boiled. Gooseberry tart with custard, plain rice pudding. Cheese macaroni. Dessert. (f) Carrot soup. Mushroom pie, broccoli and buttered eggs. Colecannon, stuffed vegetable marrow, stewed green peas. Orange jelly, bread pudding. Cheese straws. Dessert. (g) Palestine soup. French bean omelette, eggs baked with parsley. Potatoes Italian fashion, baked tomatoes, green peas plain boiled. Cherry tart, blancmange. Cheese pudding. Dessert. (h) Vegetable marrow soup. Swiss omelette, stuffed eggs. Fried potatoes, broad beans and parsley sauce, mushrooms stewed in milk. Raspberry and currant tart, whipped cream; semolina pudding. Ramakins, cheese, celery, &c. Dessert. (i) Lentil soup. Macaroni omelette, savoury rice fritters. Potatoes baked, haricot beans, stewed carrots. Apple tart, tapioca pudding, cheese soufflé. Dessert. (j) Dried pease soup, vegetable pie (carrots, turnips, potatoes, celery, eggs, &c.). Boiled haricot beans, potato shape, winter greens. Mince pies, rice balls. Cheese omelette. Dessert. (k) Purée d’asperges, potage à la crème de riz. Œufs à l’Indienne, omelette au naturel, macaroni aux tomates. Pommes de terre à la maître d’hôtel, petits pois à la Française, salsifis à la crème, concombres à la poulette, céleri à la Chetwynd. Jelée de fraises, jelée à la Russe, crème d’amandes, beignets d’oranges. Kluskis au fromage, soufflé au Parmesan. Glaces--Crème de vanille, eau de fraises. Dessert. (l) Coconut soup, brown soup, asparagus omelette, cucumber pie, savoury eggs. New potatoes tossed in butter, celery fried in batter, stewed tomatoes, cauliflowers with grated cheese. Apple jelly, Charlotte Russe, Bakewell pudding (cold), almond puffs, iced pudding. Cheese fondue, devilled biscuits. Ices--Strawberry cream, lemon water. Dessert. (m) Purée de tomates, potage à la Jenny Lind. Œufs farcis aux champignons, omelette aux fines herbes, riz à la Milanaise. Pointes d’esperges à la Colbert, artichauts à la Hollandaise, pomme de terre à l’Italienne, épinards au velouté. Crème au caramel, macédoine de fruits, meringues à la crème, gelée de cerises. Canapés au fromage, crème de fromage. Glaces--Crème de framboises, eau de mille fruits. Dessert. (n) Chestnut soup, curry soup. Raised savoury pie, carrot fritters, egg patties. Potato balls, braised celery, brown sauce, turnips with white sauce, stewed beetroot. Plum pudding, coffee cream, Punch jelly, lemon sponge. Cheese macaroni, savoury rice. Ices--Orange cream, Noyeau water. Dessert. (Eliot James.)

Christmas Dinners.--(a) Clear game soup. Boiled turbot, lobster sauce. Braised turkey. Roast sirloin of beef. Mashed potatoes. Brussels sprouts. Stewed celery. Plum pudding. Mince pies. Almond cheesecakes. Punch jelly. Scotch woodcock. Cheese straws. (b) Oxtail soup. Codfish, oyster sauce. Pork cutlets, sharp sauce. Beef olives. Roast turkey. Potatoes. Jerusalem artichokes. Broccoli. Plum pudding. Mince pies. Meringues. Charlotte Russe. Cheese. Celery. (c) Potage à la Nivernaise. Turbot, sauce Hollandaise. Kromeskies à la purée de gibier. Filets de bœuf à la Macédoine. Dinde truffé à la braise. Bécassines. Salade de cresson. Chouxfleurs au gratin. Ramequins. Plum pudding. Petits choux à la gelée. Nougats à la crème. Parfait au café. (d) Consommé de volaille. Boudins de merlan. Filets de soles à la Orly. Chartreuse de perdreaux. Côtelettes de mouton à la Soubise. Aloyau rôti à l’Anglaise. Pommes de terres soufflées. Choux de Bruxelles sautés. Bécasses rôties. Salade Russe. Fondue au Parmesan. Plum pudding. Crème au chocolat. Gelée au Marasquin. Savarin au rhum. (e) Clear game soup. Turbot, tartare sauce. Stewed beef. Roast turkey. Boiled ham. Mashed potatoes. Brussels sprouts. Cheese. Plum pudding. Mince pies. Curaçoa jelly. Vanilla cream. Tipsy puddings. Charlotte Russe. (f) Gravy soup. Boiled turbot. Lobster and Dutch sauces. Fillets of rabbit. Larks in cases. Braised turkey. Roast sirloin of beef. Brussels sprouts. Mashed potatoes. Plum pudding. Chartreuse of oranges. Mince pies. Stewed pears. Cheese, biscuits, and dessert. (g) For Children. Clear soup with custard. Fillets of sole, béchamel sauce. Roast turkey. Boiled ham. Mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts. Plum pudding. Mince pies. Orange jelly. Charlotte Russe. (h) Family Dinner. Gravy soup. Codfish, oyster sauce. Game Kromeskies. Stewed kidneys. Braised beef, with vegetables (à la jardinière). Roast turkey and sausages. Spinach. Jerusalem artichokes. Potato snow. Anchovy toast. Stilton cheese. Plum pudding. Mince pies. Pineapple jelly. Chocolate cream.

Wines.--The question of drinks is much debated. Generally 2, or at most 3, kinds, of wine should suffice. With soup, fish, and sweets, either sherry, chablis, sauterne, or hock; with the rest of the dinner, claret or Burgundy and champagne. It has become the fashion of late years to serve this last-named wine rather profusely, with more regard to quantity than quality, but mediocrity is not tolerable in the matter of champagne. To second or even third class clarets or Burgundies there can be no objection; they may not possess the bouquet of the finest brands, but they are quite drinkable of their kind, whereas inferior champagne is simply an abomination. The same, in a lesser degree, perhaps, applies to Madeira and port. It is a mistake to suppose that first-rate port wine and Madeira are not to be had for love or money, but in many instances such wretched stuff is put on the table under those names that people have been scared by it, and there are but few who are bold enough to help themselves to either wine. There is, however, no particular obligation to have port wine at dessert. A bottle of first-class Burgundy can well take its place, and it is an easier matter to procure the latter than the former.

All wines, but more particularly clarets and Burgundies, require some care during their transit from the cellar to the dinner table, especially in cold weather. In the majority of private houses the wine cellars are no better than they should be, and more fitted to store coals than wine. Delicate wines are quite unfit to drink when they come out of most private cellars. To restore wines to their right condition many persons adopt such rough means as plunging the bottle in a bucket of hot water or putting it in front of the fire in the fender, proceedings which have the double effect of warming the wine and utterly spoiling it. The proper way to set to work is to bring up the day before or in the morning all the wine that is wanted for one day, and to place the bottles standing in a room in which there is a fire, but nowhere near the fire; the wine will then gradually recover its proper temperature and tone and be fit to drink. When bottles have stood for half a day or more there will be no difficulty in decanting the wine bright, whereas it is almost an impossibility to get wine otherwise than foul if it is decanted the moment it is taken from the bin.

=Breakfasts.=--There is an almost endless variety of dishes suited to the breakfast-table. The following may be mentioned as examples:--

Trout or mackerel split open and broiled; scrambled eggs on anchovy toast; buttered eggs with tomato sauce; fried soles with cut lemon; kidneys stewed or fried; kidney toast; ham toast; omelets; kedgeree; kromeskies; curried fowl or rabbit; rissoles; potted meat; lobster or salmon cutlets; potted pig’s head; poached eggs; boiled ham; hard-boiled eggs curried; wet devil; brawn; broiled chicken and mushrooms; stewed mushrooms; grilled kidney; savoury rice; sheep’s brains; boiled pig’s feet; baked eggs; fish pudding; fish cakes; fish scallops; Scotch woodcock; lobster toast; pressed beef; chicken pie; veal and ham pie; sardines on toast; potted meat; bloaters on toast; egg paste; Brighton toast; devilled eggs; veal cake; eel pie; sausage patties; bacon omelet; sweetbreads; fried ham and egg; salt-fish.

=Luncheons.=--Excepting in very rare and ceremonious cases, luncheon is a decidedly informal meal, and no long invitations are given. In the country it is a pleasant mode of seeing friends who live at too great a distance to drive over for a morning visit with the uncertainty of finding any one at home, or who do not like a long drive in the dark to dinner. In London many ladies give it to be understood by their intimate friends that they are always to be found at home at luncheon time; but this is of course a somewhat expensive mode of life, necessitating the daily preparation of a luncheon sufficient for an uncertain number of guests. It is an excellent method of seeing friends who may be merely passing through the town to invite them to luncheon, as their evening hours are frequently engaged. Also it is a convenient form of hospitality in small households, as, the meal being less formal, less is expected in the way of preparation, decorations, and attendance. Soup is not customary at luncheon, and fish is not necessary; though there is no objection to its appearance in the form of an entrée. There may be cold dishes, both of meat and sweets, which of course economises labour where the kitchen establishment is small; and champagne is not offered, sherry, claret, and port being sufficient. The table is not elaborately decorated with flowers as it is for a dinner party; and though there is most frequently a little fruit, no great expense is incurred for dessert, and it is not customary to have ices or liqueurs. There is no necessity as at a dinner party to have an equal number of gentlemen and ladies, for it is not usual to go down to luncheon arm-in-arm--in fact, everything is calculated to make the gathering as little formal as possible. It is by no means necessary at an ordinary luncheon party that the master of the house should be at home; in his absence one of the daughters of the family would take the foot of the table and carve, the hostess of course taking the head of the table. If there are no grown-up daughters, the governess, if there is one, often carves, or the hostess asks any gentleman who may be present to do so. Some people profess to prefer a luncheon party where the servants are sent out of the room as soon as they have removed the covers, alleging that conversation is more unrestrained. This may be the case, but it generally results in the guests having to go without what they require. If they attempt to get up and help themselves there is always a fuss and a rush to get what they require for them; and generally they prefer doing without vegetables or the second glass of wine which they want rather than give trouble and disturb their entertainers. It is much better to let the servants wait as they would at dinner; it is very disagreeable for the guests to have to change their own plates, and still more so to see the dirty plates either left on the table or piled up on dumb-waiters at the corners. Any dishes of hot meat should be removed when they are done with, as they are not appetising to look at when getting cold, and their places should be filled with whatever sweets there may be. Serviettes are quite as much needed at luncheon as at dinner; but finger-glasses and doyleys are not used, even when fruit and cake conclude the repast. The invitations to luncheon are generally either verbal or contained in friendly notes; formal cards are not used. The general hour is 1.30 or 2, the latter being most common in London, and the former in the country, more especially in winter. The guests usually arrive about ¼ hour before the time named, and the hostess always asks the ladies whether they will like to go upstairs and take off their hats and jackets. Sometimes they do so, but often prefer merely leaving any warm wraps in the drawing-room; elderly ladies especially often do not care to remove their bonnets. After luncheon is over the party returns to the drawing-room. There is no arbitrary rule as to when the guests take their leave, as it depends on intimacy and many other circumstances; but the average time is ¼-½ hour. Neither tea nor coffee is offered. These remarks, of course, apply only to private and informal luncheon parties. When there is any great state occasion, such, for instance, as a luncheon given on the opening of a church, the laying of a stone or anything else of a public character, the entertainment is more of the nature of a dinner partaken of at an early hour--ceremonious invitations are issued, each lady is escorted by a gentleman as at dinner, and champagne is invariably given.

=Teas.=--Afternoon tea is not in fashionable circles regarded as a meal; but merely as a light refreshment, to break what would otherwise be a 6 hours’ abstinence between a 2 o’clock luncheon, and an 8 o’clock dinner. Tea is served, or brought into the drawing-room at 4-5 o’clock, but not later than 5; it is not served in the dining-room, save when an “at home” or large 5 o’clock tea is given. The housekeeper, lady’s maid, cook, or whoever may be acting as housekeeper, makes the tea, fills the hot-water kettle with boiling water, fills the sugar-basin and creamjug, and places the teacups on the tray, with teaspoons, a plate of thin bread and butter or cake, if not both. The footman, before taking in the tea, places a low table in front of his mistress, or of the seat usually occupied by her when pouring out tea, or he sees that the table near to her chair is clear of articles, that he may at once place the tray upon it. The small tea-table is not covered with a white cloth; but if covered with a smart drawing-room table cover it would not be taken off; the tables used for tea are chiefly small round tables, covered in velvet or embroidery, and trimmed with lace, or are square wicker-work tables; tea is not served on large tables, neither are chairs placed in order around the small tea-table, but remain in their usual position in the drawing room. Neither plates, doyleys, or serviettes are used at afternoon tea. The hot-water kettles in use are hanging silver kettles on stands, or silver or china kettles, about the size of a teapot, which do not require a stand. Teapot stands, or tea cosies, are not used, and are considered bad style. When the mistress pours out the tea, cups of tea are not handed by a servant.

When the mistress does not care to give herself the trouble of pouring out the tea for an indefinite number of callers, cups of tea according to the number of persons in the drawing-room are brought in on a salver, with cream and sugar, thin bread and butter and cake. If two servants are in attendance, one hands the tea, the other the cake and bread and butter; if only one servant is kept, all is placed on the same tray. The servant hands the tray first to his mistress, if no guests are present; but when guests are present tea is first handed to the lady of highest rank, and to the married ladies before the unmarried ladies. He then takes away the salver or tray, with its contents. He does not leave it in the drawing-room, or put it down while he is there. The tea is either brought in at the usual hour for having tea, or, if required earlier, the mistress of the house rings the bell, and orders it to be brought in. She does not mention how many cups of tea are required, as if she were giving an order at an hotel; but says vaguely, “Bring some tea, please.” It is the servant’s duty to notice how many persons are in the drawing-room, and how many cups of tea are consequently required. It is advisable to bring in an extra cup, in case another visitor should arrive in the meantime.

At small 5 o’clock teas, when the number of the guests does not warrant tea being served in dining-rooms--and the size of the drawing-rooms determine this matter--the tea is served in the back drawing-room. A good-sized square table is placed in a convenient corner of the back drawing-room, a white damask tablecloth is spread on the table, and as many cups and saucers are placed upon the table as there are guests expected. The cups include teacups and coffee-cups, but more teacups than coffee-cups are usually required; the cups are placed in rows. The teacups are placed at one end or side of the table, and the coffee-cups at the opposite end or side. The urn occupies the centre of the table, 2 small teapots and 2 small coffee-pots are placed in the centre of the rows of cups. A silver jug of cream, and a basin to correspond of loaf sugar, a basin of crystallised sugar, and a jug of milk for the coffee. Slop-basins are not used on these occasions, neither are plates, doyleys, serviettes, or small knives. The sole eatables provided are thin bread and butter, biscuits, coffee-biscuits, macaroons, and pound cakes; sponge cakes are rather in favour at children’s teas, but not much fancied at drawing-room teas. When tea is served in this fashion, in the drawing-room, the ladies of the house, or some intimate friend of its mistress, pours out the tea, with the assistance of some of the gentlemen present. The servants do not remain in the drawing-room after they have brought in the tea, and when anything extra is required in the way of additional cups, fresh tea, more bread and butter, &c., the mistress of the house would ring and give the necessary orders. The tea-table would be prepared in the drawing-room half an hour before the hour at which the guests had been invited. The tea and coffee would not be brought in until the hour named in the invitation, say, 4 or 5, either hour being considered equally fashionable. The tea-table is not cleared, or the things removed, until after the departure of the guests, when the parlour maid would perform that duty, and re-arrange the drawing-rooms. It is the footman’s duty to prepare the table for tea, and to bring in the tea and coffee; the butler carries in the urn; he also announces the guests as they arrive.

At afternoon “at homes,” or large 5 o’clock teas, tea is served in the dining-room; a buffet is formed of the dining-table, which is placed at the upper end or side of the room, if the doing so affords greater space; thus the buffet extends the length of the room or the width of it; the buffet is covered with a white damask tablecloth, and the centre of it is occupied with plated urns containing tea and coffee, or silver teapots and coffee-pots, and an urn for hot water and jugs of iced coffee, dishes of fancy biscuits, cake, thin bread and butter, fruit, &c., are also placed the length of the buffet. Decanters of sherry and jugs of claret, champagne and hock cup are placed at distances in front of these, a space being left clear at the outer edge for the teacups when used. The cups and saucers are placed in rows behind the urns, and relays of the same on a small table, or butler’s tray, stand close at hand; wine-glasses are placed near the decanters, that gentlemen may help themselves to wine. When claret-cup or champagne-cup is given, small thin tumblers are placed near the glass jugs. Jugs of cream and milk, and basins of sugar, are placed on the buffet at intervals. Small plates, doyleys, and serviettes are never used at this class of tea, unless strawberries and cream are given, when they are handed on a plate with a dessertspoon and small fork on each side of it, ready for use. When ices are given at afternoon teas, they are handed on a small glass plate, with an ice spoon on the side of the plate; tall ice-glasses are not good style; a fashionable way of serving ices is in small paper cups placed on ice plates.

The tea is always poured out on these occasions by the lady’s maids and upper female servants, but never by the men servants. These women servants stand behind the buffet, and pour out the tea and coffee, and hand it across the buffet when asked for.

Ices are not usually under the charge of the servants who pour out the tea, but under that of the still-room maid or cook, and are served from a side-table at the back of the buffet, and are handed to the servants at the buffet when asked for. Piles of ice plates, paper cups, and spoons are in readiness on the side-table for immediate use. The guests help themselves to cake and biscuits, or anything they may require, from the buffet, but the ice wafers are placed on the ice plates when the ices are served in paper cups, otherwise a dish of wafers is handed to the lady by the gentleman who has asked for the ice for her, or she takes it herself. The men servants are constantly engaged in taking away the glasses that have been used, and the teacups and saucers. The former are taken to the pantry to be washed, and the latter to the housekeeper’s room or still room, and sufficient quantity of glass and china is always provided, so as to avoid a shadow of inconvenience from the want of either. The decanters of wine and the jugs of claret and other cups are replenished by the butler, who replaces empty decanters and jugs with full ones. When the dishes of cake, &c., show signs of their being exhausted, the footman replaces them with fresh dishes, which he procures from the housekeeper’s room. Dessert dishes and glass dishes are used for this purpose. Where only one man servant is kept and small “at homes” are given, one of the women servants attends to this duty, as the men servants would be engaged in opening the door to the visitors on their arrival and for them on their departure, and in announcing them in the drawing-room.

Rows of seats are not placed in the dining-room for the guests, and the room is cleared as far as possible of all movable furniture to allow all available space.

The much-increasing fashion of giving invitations to high tea has been adopted by many hostesses, especially by those who, with limited establishments, find it difficult, if not impossible, to undertake the requirements of a modern dinner without the objectionable alternative of hiring assistance. So late a meal as supper may not be expedient for many reasons, and many a young hostess finds her difficulties vanish before the less formal appellation “high tea,” which, if well managed, may be a comfortable repast, but otherwise, a most uncomfortable substitute for dinner.

Various are the modes of arranging this meal. At the “highest” of “high teas” the principal dishes consist of hot poultry, game, and small entrées, which, if placed at once on the table, must be kept covered while a light fish course is handed round, with which sherry or other light wines are offered.

Vegetables are not necessary, except where they form part of a dish, such as stewed pigeons and peas, cutlets with tomatoes, sweetbreads with mushrooms in white sauce, or stuffed vegetable marrow. Large mushrooms may be served au gratin, and roast fowls on watercress. Potatoes may always be handed round, either mashed and browned, or, better still, beaten up with egg and cream, seasoned with pepper and salt, rolled into dainty little shapes, breadcrumbed and fried.

Should macaroni cheese, a fondue, or any such preparation, usually most welcome to the men of the party, be included, it must be brought in hot, after the removal of the substantial dishes.

The table is of course tastefully arranged with growing plants and cut flowers; and at this season bright hedgerow leaves and berries make charming decorations. Small dishes of fresh or preserved fruits, bonbons, &c., are placed amongst the creams, jellies, and dishes of light pastry, also cake, plain and fancy biscuits.

If the hostess be an accomplished tea maker, she will probably prefer to undertake this important duty herself, having (unless the table be very large) a small tray by her side with the necessary paraphernalia, a kettle over a small spirit lamp, and coffee percolator.

Sometimes tea and coffee are dispensed from the sideboard, but the person entrusted must be competent, as nothing will tend more to spoil the enjoyment of the repast for some guests than lukewarm or weak tea, or muddy coffee. In each case let the cream, hot milk, and sugar (which must be broken into small pieces) be handed round, as it is impossible for one person to suit the varied tastes of others in these items. It may be found more convenient to serve all the eatables cold, such as cold game, chaud froid of chicken, lobster or prawn salad, pigeons or other small birds in aspic jelly, mayonnaise of turbot or salmon, prettily arranged moulds of minced veal and ham, with sliced eggs, &c.; pies of game or poultry, boiled turkey sauced with oysters, and many other preparations in cold-meat cookery, too numerous to be here mentioned. Here also will fruits, sweets, creams, &c., find their appropriate places, and plates of thinly cut white and brown bread and butter must either be conveniently placed or constantly handed round; also plain and fancy bread. Small glass or china tubs should hold butter made into tiny balls or shapes, and enough saltcellars be provided to prevent the continual passing and repassing of them. Inattention to these apparent trifles often create discomfort in a large party.

Hot buttered toast, tea cakes, and scones frequently appear at a repast of this description, especially in Scotland, where the variety of home-made tea cakes is so great.

Then there is the high tea, where the party includes but 4-6--actually a small dinner, but without the name--the soup, heavier dishes and their adjuncts, a succession of small dishes (from fish to miniature light puddings) being served à la Russe, accompanied perhaps by wine, the tea or coffee tray being only introduced near the termination of the repast. Happily, sitting over wine is not now essential to the enjoyment of most men. Well-managed high teas are often better appreciated than the more formal, and probably imperfect, so-called dinner. (M. M.)

=Suppers.=--The essentials of supper are not only lightness and wholesomeness of material, but grace and elegance of service. It is possible to make off a single dish one of the wholesomest, as well as completest, of suppers that can be devised, viz. oysters. Fish of most sorts, however, is well fitted to take its place amongst the ingredients of supper, only be warned against salmon in any shape, and specially in that most dangerous of all, the pickled state. At supper there is not, nor ought to be, any regularly constituted succession of “courses,” and the several dishes, whether hot or cold, should be in their places on the table at the same time. As regards the question between hot and cold. There are plenty of hot dishes to be had most easy of digestion, and to the palate of many people more agreeable than cold; but exclude all manner of soups. Of the better kind of hot food, the following specimens may suffice: Chickens (spatchcocked, grilled, roast, and fricasséed), larded capon, salmis of game, roast partridge or grouse (but not roast hare), mutton cutlets of different sorts, grills or broils, patties (oyster for preference), rissoles, and croquettes. Of the more solid cold articles of food, the greater part will probably already have appeared at breakfast or luncheon,--boar’s head and brawn, cold game, round of beef, and chickens with ham or tongue; there remain mayonnaises (but not of lobster), macédoines, aspic, and other savoury jellies, galantine, and raised pies in their abundant varieties. Adjuncts to the feast, such as sandwiches (the best are of tongue, ham, and potted meat), will never be out of place. Plovers’ eggs too, if they have no other merit, it cannot be denied are of very extensive popularity. The dishes mentioned will require to be supplemented by a certain variety of sweet things.

=Miscellaneous.=--Wedding Breakfast.--(a) Clear soup and hot cutlets, croquettes, or some other suitable entrée may first be handed round, but it is not de rigueur, and all the rest should be cold and on the table. Cold salmon, mayonnaise of soles, prawns, lobster, or any other fish liked. Chicken, tongue, ham, galantines, raised pies, cold cutlets in aspic, savoury jellies; in fact, anything that can be served at a supper, and the more easy the dishes are to serve, the better. For instance, the fowls cut up, the tongue in slices, and all prettily garnished and decorated with lettuce, endive, beetroot, cucumber, aspic jelly, and eggs. For sweets, jellies, cream, pastries, trifle, meringues; ices, if liked, and, of course, the wedding cake. Coffee must be handed round afterwards.

(b) In May mayonnaises de saumon, mayonnaises de homard, crevettes au naturel, aspics aux œufs de pluviers. Chapons à la Béchamel, pintades piquées, poulets et langue, jambons glacés, galantines de bœuf, pâtés froids variés. Poulardes rôties, salades à l’Italienne. Gelées et crèmes, blancmanges, corbeilles aux meringues, corbeilles de pâtisseries, gateaux Napolitains, gâteau de Savoie glacé. Glaces: fraises à la crème, oranges à l’eau. Bride cake. Dessert. All cold.

(c) Wines: Moselle, champagne, hock, sherry, claret. Botage: à la reine, à la printanière. Croquettes d’huîtres, escallopes de ris de veau aux champignons, cotelettes d’agneau aux petits pois. Dinde farçi à la Périgord, pâté de gibier à l’Anglaise, langues glacées, jambons glacés, poulets rôtis aux cresson, ptarmigans rôtis, pâté de foies gras aux truffes, boudins de homard à la Belle Vue, aspic de crevettes à la Russe, mayonnaise de saumon. Salades de homards: Gelée à la Lorne, gelée à l’Eugénie, gelée à la Macédoine, crème à la Sicilienne, crème de fraises, bavarois d’ananas, gâteau de millefeuilles, meringue à la Christophe, petites meringues à la Chantilly. Glaces: Crème d’ananas, eau de cerises.

(d) Consommé à la d’Esclignac; purée de perdreaux à la crème. Côtelettes d’Agneau aux concombres; suprême de poulets aux truffes. Langue de bœuf garnie d’Ecrevisses; pâté de coq de bruyère; balotines d’Agneau; poulets rôtis aux cresson; galantines de volaille; mayonnaise de homard; jambon en salade. Petits gateaux à la Génoise; macédoine de fruit à la gelée; pain d’Abricots au noyau; Charlottes à la Bohémienne; pâtisseries meringuées. Eau d’Ananas; crème framboise; crème de vanille.

Afternoon Dance.--The refreshments usually provided for an afternoon dance would be brown and white bread and butter, pound and plum cakes, sponge fingers, and biscuits. Sandwiches of various kinds are also much appreciated, particularly by guests coming from a distance, and of these perhaps the following are as nice as any: ham and tongue, lettuce and anchovy (a little of the latter), or delicate slices of hard-boiled egg and lettuce, with a touch of anchovy added. Fruit knives and forks should be laid in each plate ready for using for peaches, pineapples, &c. Grapes should be among the fruit provided. Ices, iced coffee, and various “cups” are generally seen at afternoon dances, such as champagne or claret. There should be 2 or 3 dishes of each kind of refreshment at intervals down the table. (F. Lilian.)

Lawn Party.--It is usual to have hot tea, coffee, cakes, brown bread and butter, fruit and cream, at a lawn party. Iced coffee is not necessary, but much liked in hot weather. It is made as follows. To 1 qt. very strong coffee add 1 pint cream and ½ pint milk, and sugar to taste. Put all into a freezing tin, and freeze until a little thick; serve in a silver kettle or soup tureen. (A. H.)

Cinderella Supper.--(a) Watercress sandwiches, sardine sandwiches, anchovy sandwiches, devilled eggs, salad, coffee jelly, orange cream, sweet biscuits, sponge cakes, claret cup, lemonade soup. (b) Boned turkeys, lobster salads, chicken sandwiches, shrimp sandwiches, tongue sandwiches, veal croquettes, oyster patties. Ices, jellies, and creams, claret cup, claret, and a good lemonade; also some fruit and a selection of fancy confectionery such as will not soil the glove; candied walnuts, plums, &c., are much liked. (c) The great points to aim at in giving a Cinderella supper, as a sequel to the fashionable Cinderella dances, are elegance and lightness, combined with economy.

SUPPLEMENTARY LITERATURE.

Edward Smith: ‘Foods.’ London, 1880. 5_s._

Mrs. Loftie: ‘The Dining Room.’ London, 1878. 2_s._ 6_d._

John Perkins: ‘Floral Designs for the Table.’ London, 1877. 5_s._

‘The Book of Dinner Serviettes.’ London, 1876.

THE DRAWING-ROOM.

The drawing-room is the scene of almost all social gatherings, whether dancing, theatricals, games, or other amusements be provided.

=Etiquette.=--This chapter cannot commence more appropriately than with a few remarks on the customs observed in society and the rules which regulate visits and parties. To enter fully into all these matters would occupy a very large amount of space. Those requiring more detail cannot do better than consult the weekly pages of the Queen, in which excellent journal often appear articles on the latest fashionable customs, and where an inquiry from one in doubt is sure to meet with a polite reply giving the necessary information.

Styles and Titles.--It seems difficult to make it clear to the understandings of many persons that it is incorrect, in speaking of an earl’s, marquis’s, or duke’s daughter, to omit her Christian name. They must know that she is habitually styled Lady Clara Vere, yet they persist in calling her Lady Vere, as if she were a peeress or a baronet’s wife, instead of a “lady in her own right.” Another equally common blunder is to speak of a baronet’s wife as Lady Emma Jones; if for purposes of identification it is necessary to mention her Christian name at all, it should be as Emma Lady Jones, as nothing but being the daughter of a peer higher in rank than a viscount gives the right to be called Lady Emma. Again, it is impossible to persuade some people that it is the sons of dukes and marquises only who are called lords; they persist in imagining that because earls’ daughters are styled lady, it is impossible that their younger brothers should be only Hon. Mr. The title of dowager is another great stumbling-block. In propriety it should only be borne by the mother of the reigning peer or baronet. Should, therefore, a peer (let us call him Earl of Brighton) succeed his father, his mother, the widowed countess, should be styled the Countess Dowager of Brighton. Should he, however, succeed to his uncle, brother, or cousin, that relative’s widow would have no claim to the title of dowager, but should be addressed as Mary, Countess of Brighton. It is a very common saying that a woman may rise in rank, but can never lose what she has once possessed; but, like many common sayings, this, though the general rule, is not strictly accurate. A duke’s daughter takes precedence far before the wife of a baron. Yet if she marry a baron who is a peer in his own right (not merely a title of courtesy, such as are borne by peers’ eldest sons), she at once, on becoming his wife, loses her own rank, and has no precedence, save that of her husband.

Shaking hands.--You would not shake hands on being casually introduced to a person altogether a stranger to you, but yet there are so many occasions when it is both proper and correct to shake hands on first being introduced, and the rule on this head is a very elastic one. For instance, a host and hostess invariably shake hands with every stranger introduced to them at their house. You would shake hands on being introduced to the relatives of your relations by marriage, such as your sister-in-law’s sister or your sister-in-law’s mother; with your brother-in-law’s brother or father; with your future husband’s uncle and aunt or cousins; with a brother or sister or mother of an intimate friend; or under any similar circumstances. If you do not shake hands on being introduced, ought you to do so on departure? That depends. There are occasions when to shake hands would be polite; and there are occasions when your hand would be de trop. If you had enjoyed conversation to any extent with some one to whom you had been introduced, and found you were getting on very well, and had a good deal in common, you would naturally shake hands in taking leave of each other; but if you had only exchanged a few common-place sentences, a bow would be all that is necessary. The lady usually takes the initiative, as she does with regard to bowing; but in reality it is a spontaneous movement made by both at the same moment, as the hand ought not to be extended or the bow given unless expected and instantaneously reciprocated. For a young lady suddenly to offer her hand in farewell greeting to one not prepared for the honour leads to an abrupt movement on the one part, and to a little confusion on the other. Shaking hands on taking leave is with some few people a graceful and pleasant fashion of saying good-bye. About shaking hands with acquaintances at a dinner party, or at an evening party, many are in doubt. If the dinner party is a small one, and there is time to quietly shake hands with those you know, it would be correct to do so; but if there were little time before dinner, and no good opportunity for shaking hands, bows to acquaintances at distant parts of the room, or when seated at the dinner table, would be sufficient for the time being; while at an evening party it depends upon your being able to get near enough to your friends to enable you to do so. Having once shaken hands with a person, you are of course at liberty to repeat the civility whenever you may happen to meet, unless a decided coolness of manner warns you that a bow would be more acceptable than a shake of the hand.

Letter Writing.--To commence a letter to a comparative stranger, or to a person with whom the writer is but slightly acquainted, on any matter of interest, is the first difficulty to be got over. In all communications with strangers, or almost strangers, it would be correct to write in the third person. A very slight acquaintance, however, or a faint personal knowledge, would authorise a letter being written in the first person if it were to be of any length. Notes are principally confined to the briefest of communications, as, when they are lengthy, the repetition of the pronoun “she” and “her,” “he” and “him,” become wearisome if not involved, to say nothing of the possessive pronouns which are frequently brought into use, with the addition of surnames. When it is imperative to write in the third person, it is most desirable to construct each sentence with care and with due regard to an extravagant use of pronouns, and never at any time to resort to the vulgar expedient of attempting a sort of compromise by making the initial letter of the writer, and of the person written to, do duty for their respective surnames. To frame a note without introducing “compliments” at its commencement is the received mode of writing one. The subject under discussion does not require this preliminary introduction, and it is best to embody it in the opening sentence. There are few people careless or ignorant enough to lapse from the third person into the first in the course of a short note; but still it is worth guarding against. To turn from notes to letters, again it is observable that a cramped style, or a small Italian handwriting, are no longer in vogue, and, when seen, appear very much out of date. The prevailing style of writing is bold and free, the characters very upright, and tall toppling “l’s” and long-tailed “g’s” have quite disappeared from letters in general; a free use of capitals is also indulged in, which gives a dash of originality and spirit to a letter when not overdone. Many gentlemen and a few ladies affect a literary style of letter writing--that is to say, a margin ¾-1 in. wide is left on the near side of the sheet of paper, which gives rather an imposing look to it; but this is only done when the letter is almost a note in the matter of length. A strictly business habit, adopted for the convenience of being copied by letter-press, by no means a fashionable one, is to write on the first and third pages of a sheet of note paper, leaving the second and fourth pages blank, or to write on the first and fourth pages, leaving the other two; but some people fall into the mistake of doing this under the impression that it is rather fine, whereas it is very much the reverse. Some little care should be taken in paragraphing a letter to avoid incoherency. Thus, a fresh line and a capital should be allowed to each new subject. As much variety is introduced into the letters of the present day as possible; thus, should a sentence or a remark require to be referred to, the eye can at once light upon it without re-reading the whole epistle. It used to be an idea that to underline words in a letter was “missish” in the extreme, and rather bad style than not: but now, if a writer wishes to be very emphatic, or to call particular attention to any remark, an additional stroke of the pen is not objected to; but it is a liberty not to be taken when writing to those with whom one is on ceremony. Another practice of the past, which is now happily discarded, is that of crossing letters. Many people experience a certain difficulty in the choice of a conventional term with which to conclude a ceremonious letter, and it must be admitted that there is not much variety at command, “yours truly,” “yours sincerely,” “yours faithfully,” with the addition perhaps of the adverb “very,” being the principal formulas in use; and it is on the whole immaterial whether “truly” or “sincerely” is employed when writing to friends. The affectionate expressions addressed to still dearer friends and relations are beside the question, and yet many devoted husbands make use of the words “yours truly” when writing to their wives, in preference to any more affectionate phrase. By way of not concluding a letter too abruptly, it is usual, before the words “yours truly,” to add one or other of such phrases as these: “Believe me, dear Mrs. Jones,” or “I remain, dear Mrs. Jones,” or “Believe me, dear Mrs. Jones, with kind regards,” and this gives a certain finish and completeness to a letter which would otherwise be wanting.

A few words as to the actual composition of a letter. It should always be borne in mind that if a letter has a purpose, a reason, or an object for being written, this fact should not be lost sight of, or overweighted with a mass of extraneous matter. Again, it is idle to devote the first page of a letter to trivial excuses for not having written sooner, when no particular reason existed why a still longer delay in writing might not have been allowed to elapse, if it suited the convenience of the writer. Of course, when a letter requires an immediate answer, it is then a matter of politeness to give the reason for the omission, but this should be explained without circumlocution, and other matters should at once be referred to. A want of punctuation in a letter will often cause a sentence or paragraph to be misunderstood, and made to convey the reverse of what was intended. Notes of interrogation should not be omitted from a letter when questions are asked, though many consider it a waste of time to make use of them. Notes of exclamation, when required, materially assist the clearer understanding of a passage, which, without them, might have a vague meaning. It is not the fashion in these days to accuse oneself of writing a stupid letter, a dull letter, or an uninteresting letter, one’s friends are only too likely to take one at one’s own valuation, and to endorse the written verdict; while the solecism of laying the blame of bad writing on pens, ink, and paper is confined to the servants’ hall, where writing materials are perhaps not always of the best quality, and seldom ready to hand. In answering a letter, it is a great proof of a poor imagination, besides being extremely tedious, when each paragraph of the letter under treatment is minutely paraphrased. Questions naturally demand answers, and important facts call for comment; but trivial remarks and observations, perhaps pleasantly put, were never expected to be returned to their author with poor platitudes attached to them.

A postscript was formerly supposed to convey the pith or gist of a lady’s letter--a poor compliment, it must be confessed, to her intelligence; it is now considered a vulgarism to put P.S. at the bottom of a letter containing the few last words, if something is remembered when the letter is concluded that should have been said, it is added without apology.

Answering Invitations.--The extremely rude habit of not answering notes as soon as they are received is generally done from idleness and a habit of shirking trouble, though, as the answer must ultimately be written, it is hard to see what exertion is saved by not writing it at the proper time. Of the inconvenience to the sender from not receiving the answer required, no one seems to think, and there are some who labour under the delusion that it is “fine,” and increases their importance, to keep people waiting. The inconvenience to a hostess can hardly be exaggerated. Rooms are not elastic, and having asked the proper number of people, she can ask no more until she knows that some of those invited, as is generally the case in most parties, cannot come. Every day she is kept waiting lessens the time for inviting others; and then only those with whom she is sufficiently intimate to give a very short invitation. Politeness requires that an invitation to dinner should be answered at once; if the servant waits, it should be returned by him; if it is left, an answer should be sent at the earliest moment; if it is sent by post, the reply should be sent by the next one. It is no more trouble to write the answer at once than to wait for the next day. The only valid reason that a lady can have for delay is when her husband is out, and she is not quite sure about his engagements. Of course, if he is only out for a short time it is permissible to wait till he comes in; but if, as is sometimes the case, he is away from home for a day or two, she should answer at once to that effect, and write decisively on hearing his determination. Answers to At Homes, even when they bear the request “R.S.V.P.,” need not be sent so promptly; but as soon as it is quite clear to a lady that she cannot go, it is courteous to say so. Answers to invitations to concerts, private theatricals, or any entertainment where the guests are to be seated, should be sent immediately, as it is necessary for a hostess to know the number of chairs at her disposal. Answers to wedding invitations should also be returned immediately.

The art of making excuses is one which people much in society find it absolutely necessary to cultivate if they wish to retain any command over their own time, movements, and even property. Tact, or savoir vivre, is the key to this art, while frankness might certainly be termed the lock in which to place the key when making polite excuses. Frankness appeals both to the good sense and to the common sense of the one to whom it is addressed; it softens the refusal, of whatever character it may be; it gives the assurance that no slight is intended. There is one stereotyped excuse, a “previous engagement”; but between friends, and by those with whom frankness is practised, this explanation is carried a step further, and the nature of the previous engagement is mentioned, and the name of him or her with whom it is made. A downright refusal savours of ungraciousness and discourtesy; whereas a polite excuse is compassed by a little judicious temporising, which in a way breaks the force of a refusal. The difficulty of making polite excuses is sometimes increased when a verbal invitation is given to a husband and wife, and they are not able to consult as to whether they are unanimous in refusing it. The way of extrication is for the one to refer to the engagements of the other, and leave it in doubt for the moment.

Various excuses are permissible in answer to all save invitations to dinner; this must be accepted, unless a bonâ fide engagement or illness can be pleaded in excuse. Polite excuses to unwelcome requests demand even more readiness of thought and speech, as refusals to such, if not guardedly conveyed, are likely to give offence, or to create an unpleasant feeling of annoyance.

=Dancing.=--Preparing Floors.--(a) A good plan is to use a little beeswax in preparing the floor for dancing. Unless it be perfectly even, a carpenter must be called in to plane away any little roughnesses, or to fill up interstices between boards with little slips of wood. When quite smooth, some beeswax must be rubbed on to one of the weighted brooms sold on purpose, and it must in this way be thoroughly worked into the boards over every part of the room, adding a little more wax when needed, but remembering that the less wax and the more labour bestowed on the floor the better it will be. When the desired polish is attained, sprinkle the floor all over with finely powdered French chalk. Cover the waxed broom by tying a piece of strong baize over it, and with this go up and down the room over and over again, until the French chalk has been well rubbed over every part; this will make the floor just right for dancing, and prevent the possibility of any slight stickiness there might be from the beeswax. As this process with the powdered chalk occasions a good deal of dust, it should be all finished some hours before the room is wanted, so as to give the dust time to settle. The room will require thorough dusting, not forgetting the upper ledges of doors, mirrors, &c., which are sometimes neglected, thereby causing a great clouding of the atmosphere as soon as dancing begins. If the room be a large one, it will take 2 men quite 2 days to polish the floor for the first time, apart from any carpentering which may be necessary. Once done, however, one day will suffice on any future occasion to put it in good dancing order; going over every part just once, first with the wax, and then with the chalk, will be quite sufficient.

(b) Powdered spermaceti answers well for polishing a floor, being clean and easily used; it should be sprinkled over, then rubbed, or, better still, is glided over by some one wearing thin shoes, each board being taken separately.

(c) Wash the boards with milk, and when dry lay on French chalk thinly but evenly all over the floor; then let 2 men scrub it hard with brushes until all signs of the chalk disappear: ½ lb. chalk will do for a large room, as if put on too thick it will soil the ladies’ dresses.

(d) The floor must first be planed as smooth as possible, all nail heads hammered down, well sand-papered with coarse and then fine paper, washed with new milk, and 6 hours after, dusted slightly with French chalk. A rough floor may be transformed in an hour by scraping up a common composite candle very finely, scattering it on the floor, rubbing it into the wood with your boots, and then dusting it with French chalk out of a flour dredger. White wax, and then French chalk, is best treatment for a well-stretched drugget, and the chalk will make an over-waxed parquet perfect.

Scenting Rooms.--(a) When the roses fade, spread the leaves to dry, taking away those which are decayed or discoloured; then, in a jar, place alternate layers of rose leaves, lavender, scented marjoram, lemon plant, or any perfumed plant, sprinkling each layer with crushed bay salt, and pressing down very tightly. In the autumn, when there is nothing more to add, strain away any moisture, turn all out, and mix well; keep in a wide-mouthed jar with a lid, and during the winter sprinkle occasionally with eau de Cologne or other perfume; and, when wishing to scent the room, take off the lid.

(b) 1 lb. bay salt, 2 oz. saltpetre, both in the finest powder, a handful of sweet bay leaves cut as small as possible; the same of myrtle leaves, rosemary, lavender leaves, and lemon thyme in flower, the rinds of 4 lemons cut as fine as possible, ½ oz. cinnamon, ½ oz. cloves, ½ oz. allspice, a large nutmeg in the finest powder, 1 oz. storax, 1 oz. bergamot, 1 oz. spirit of lavender, 1 oz. essence of lemon, 1 dr. musk, 6 oz. powdered orris root. Put all these ingredients into a jar with a lid that shuts very close, then add the following flowers as you gather them: 3 handfuls orange flowers, 3 of clove pinks, 2 of rosemary, 2 of lavender flowers, 2 of jessamine, 6 of rose leaves, and leaves of Aloysia citriodora. Stir it each time fresh flowers are added. Gather 4 rosebuds early in the morning, and put them at once into your jar. Do not leave any two leaves sticking together, and pick out every piece of green. Syringa flowers are a good substitute for orange flowers. If the pot-pourri becomes too moist, add orris root powder and spices; if too dry, add bay salt and saltpetre, only let every powder be as fine as possible, and well mixed. It cannot be too much stirred at first, and, if well made, will keep its perfume for many years.

Old-Fashioned Dances.--The Triumph: The ladies and gentlemen stand in lines opposite to each other; the top gentleman dances down the centre with the second lady, pursued by her own partner; she dances back between the two, and the next couple begin, until all the dancers are engaged. Cottagers: 4 people stand for this as in the quadrille; they cross hands in the centre, and make the half-turn backwards and forwards; then the second couple hold up their hands, and the first couple pass beneath and begin again. Square Eights: Ladies and gentlemen in two lines, hands across, then first polka round, and then galop, and begin again. Morgiana in Iceland: The dancers stand opposite each other in two lines. The top couple go outside the lines, back again, down the middle, and up again; the couple at the top holding up their hands, they pass under, and the next couple begin. Miss Lunsdam’s Fancy: The first couple set to the second lady, hands 3 round, the gentlemen do the same, lead down the middle and up again, right and left at top. Lady Doran Strathspey: Set and hands across and back again, down the middle and up again allemand; turn corners, lead outsides. The Jubilees: First and second couple hand across, back again, lead down the middle and up again; swing corners. The Quadrille Mazurka, danced face to face, in 4, 6, or 8 couples, up to 32. Fig. 1. The 2 couples facing each other make the complete right and left; the 2 gentlemen, advancing with their partners, give each other their left elbows, make a demi tour, change their partners, make the tour sur place forward, and repeat the figure to bring them back to places. Fig. 2. Wait 8 bars. The 2 opposite gentlemen, holding their partners by the hand, advance and fall back, cross by right and change places, make the tour sur place forward, and repeat the figure to bring themselves back to their places. Fig. 3. Wait 8 bars. The 2 opposite ladies cross by their right, and re-cross, giving the left hand; the gentlemen give them the right hand, turning them; their left hand round the waist. Thus the ladies, still holding each other by the left hand, make a half round to change places. The gentlemen, still holding their partners by the waist, make the tour sur place forward. They cross hands in centre, and make an entire round. The gentlemen, having changed sides, take their partners’ hand, and fall back with them, and repeat the figure to regain their places, omitting the cross hands in centre. Fig. 4. Wait 8 bars. The first gentleman promenades with his partner round to his place, advances forward and backwards. The gentleman again advances, and his partner crosses to left; without quitting her hands, he takes the lady from the opposite couple with his other hand, who takes the hand of the other lady behind the gentleman; thus all three advance and retire without turning. The gentleman then stoops, and passes under the arms of the two ladies united behind, with which his own are then found crossed. The three go round to the right; the gentleman then leaves the lady with her partner, and makes a promenade to his place with his own partner; both then advance and retire. Fig. 5. Wait 8 bars. Right and left; the gentlemen, still holding their partners, make a demi tour, and pass the right arm under the left of their partners, and, taking them by the waist, thus make the tour sur place backwards. Half hand round, and petit tour, to return to their places. Then join 4 hands round, and make a demi tour to the left. A tour forward, and demi tour round to the left, tour forward; double right and left, and return to their places. Tour sur place forwards and backwards, and finish by a grand chain as in Lancers. This is a graceful and telling dance. The Spanish Dance is danced in 3 time with the waltz step, and is very graceful. The dancers stand in line as for a country dance, the sexes divided except that the top gentleman stands on the lady’s side, and the top lady on that of the gentleman, and every fourth lady and gentleman change places in like manner; first gentleman and second lady, and first lady and second gentleman of each set of 4; set to each other and change places; repeat; then first gentleman and second lady set to their partners, change, and resume their original places; all four join hands in centre, advance, retire, and change places; ladies passing to left four times; next the couples waltz round each other, the second couple taking the top; while the top couple repeat the figure till the whole line is completed. The Swedish Dance is as follows: Arrange the company in lines of 3, a gentleman and 2 ladies, or a lady and two gentlemen, vis-à-vis, as many sets as can be formed to dance at once; all forward and back join hands; gentlemen set to opposite lady on the right and turn, and set to lady on the left, turn, and back to places; all forward and back, forward again, and pass through to next set; all forward and back twice; the two top ladies and opposite gentleman all three join hands round, and back again to places; all forward and back, forward again, and pass through to the next set; all forward twice; four ladies cross right, hands round and back again to places; hands all round and back to places; all forward and back, forward again, and pass through into next set. (A. H.)

=Amateur Theatricals.=--These form an excellent amusement for winter evenings, and may be made highly instructive to young members of the family, besides aiding in developing a degree of culture in manner and speech with proper guidance. A moderate amount of ingenuity, with some pasteboard, paper and paste, will suffice to extemporise a stage and scenery. A few hints on “making up” may be useful.

Making up.--Given a clean shaven face, the features of which are not specially prominent, and it is comparatively easy for an artist in make up to transform it into a fair likeness of any type of character he wishes to represent, or even to imitate a particular individual. Of course the actor cannot remould his features, but by putting on different coloured paints he can present an effect which, viewed from a little distance, has all the appearance of having been remoulded. The great secret underlying all the triumphs of this art is that white brings into prominence and black depresses. For instance, take a nose that is reasonably straight. Suppose it is desired to make it a pug. Put a little dark brown on the bridge and make the end lighter than all the rest of the face. The gradations have to be nicely shaded, and there comes in the art. To reverse the process, and produce a marked aquiline, hook, or Jewish nose, put white on the bridge and darken down the tip a little. That will bring forth an aristocratic nose that would do credit to any duke in the British peerage.

Grease paints can now be purchased. These are colours mixed with a hard grease, a little of which is rubbed on the face and then smoothly spread over with the finger. One of its most valuable properties is that it is not affected by perspiration, and requires grease or soap and water to remove it. Generally the actor rubs a little vaseline or cold cream over his face and wipes this off with a rag before washing, thus removing most of the paint and getting the soap to lather more easily. It does not seem to injure the skin when it is properly washed off at night, but persons who are careless may let it block up the pores of the skin or remain in the roots of the hair or eyebrows. The number of shades in which grease paint is now made is very great, and every actor who takes pride in his make up will have from a dozen to twenty kinds. Even in flesh tint alone there are six varieties, from the very delicate creamy white of youth to the leaden sallowness of extreme old age. Besides these there are shades for Chinamen, and for every gradation of Indian and negro blood. Then there are whites for “high lights” and for whitening mustaches or eyebrows, browns for shading, blues for veins and hollows, reds, blacks, and yellows. You must not think they are all used in one make up, though often seven or eight colours are combined in an elaborate one. The first thing to do in making up is to select the proper flesh tint. This having been chosen and applied, the next thing is generally the rouge. Except in the case of very old characters, some red must be put on the faces, or the yellow glare of the footlights will make them look perfectly ghastly. But where the red is to be put and how much of it and what shade to use, depend entirely upon the age of the person to be represented. The younger the person the more delicate the tint of rouge should be and the higher it should be upon the face. Thus, for a very young man, the rouge is put on in a half-moon shape, one horn beginning at the inner corner of the eye and the other extending well up the temple as high as the eyebrow. As the age increases we cease to run the colour up so high on the outer side, until for mature years it settles down into the hollow below the cheek bone.

The rouge being properly applied, we next go to work upon the wrinkles or hollows. In representing age the principal lines to be emphasised are those from the nose to the corners of the mouth, from the corners of the mouth to the chin, from the inner corners of the eyes to the hollows of the cheeks, and those on the forehead. Some actors make the wrinkles in blue, others in brown, and others in grey. It is a matter of taste. The lines are made with thin sticks of the paint cut to a point, or with a pointed leather stub upon which the paint has been rubbed. After the wrinkles have been put on it may be necessary to accentuate them by a line of white or light colour on the edges, and these lines must be graduated into each other so as not to seem too hard or abrupt. In representing old men the strong muscle above the line from the nose to the mouth must be brought out very strongly with white. The cheek bones under the eyes must be treated in the same way. Then the eyelids require darkening for age, and crows’ feet are carefully drawn with a number of thin irregular lines at the outer comers of the eyes. Where youth is shown, the upper eyelids and skin under the eyebrow are delicately rouged. If hollows in the cheeks, temples, or neck are wanted, these are the next things to be done, and the outlines of the cheeks may be rounded out with light shades or made to assume eccentric shaped with darker ones. The muscles of the neck may need bringing out, and hollows put under each side of the chin. Lips require rouging for youth, and blueing or darkening for age. Large mouths are made small by putting rouge only in the centre of the lips, and small ones made large by rouging all the way, and even extending the corners with a line of red. Where toothlessness is desirable the teeth are covered with a thin coating of black wax, which renders them quite invisible. The process is technically called “stopping out.” The face being now coloured, rouged, lined, wrinkled, and hollowed, the next things to be attended to are the eyebrows, and hair or beard if any are required.

Very few people are aware how important a part the eyebrows play in forming the expression of the face. Bringing them very close together will cause a look of meanness or villainy; a high arch will ensure surprise or vacancy of expression. A slight upward turn of the inner corner makes some faces very handsome. Eyebrows are often painted; but if very heavy ones are needed they are stuck on over the true ones. If the actor is going to wear his own eyebrows or mustache, he colours them to match his wig with grease paint, which, after being rubbed on, is combed so that each hair is coloured and there is no matted appearance. The use of mustaches and beards made on wire and hung from the ears has almost entirely gone out except among supers and utility people, as, being independent of the skin of the face, they did not move with it, and consequently never appeared natural. The best mustaches and beards are now made upon a thin foundation of silk, each hair being drawn through separately and knotted. The foundation is fastened to the face with spirit gum, another modern invention of great value to actors. It consists of gum dissolved in collodion and alcohol. This mixture dries immediately it is exposed to the air, is impervious to moisture, and can only be removed by spirits or grease. When the actor had to depend upon plain glue or gum, he was always in fear of losing his false beard, and many are the funny stories told of swallowing mustaches or transferring them to the faces of ladies who have had to be embraced in the course of the action of the piece.

Many actors prefer to make their own beards or whiskers nightly, as they do not like the feeling of the solid foundation on the skin, and, indeed, an all-round beard is apt to restrict the easy working of the jaws. Whiskers or beards are made from wool or crape hair, both of which can be obtained of any desired shade of the theatrical wig makers. The hair or wool is drawn through a coarse comb to a little longer than the length desired. It is then cut close to the teeth on the under or more solid side. An even mass is thus obtained which is readily fixed to the gummed cheek. The real art is in the subsequent trimming, with very sharp scissors, to the shape desired. Wool is more easily handled, but hair which comes in short lengths, plaited, is the most realistic. It is this that detectives use for disguises, and when well put on it is almost impossible to detect its falsity, as each hair seems to grow out of the skin.

Almost the last stage is the putting on of the wig. If this is not a bald one, the hair is brought down so that the junction with the forehead is not seen. Many foreign actors prefer to have their wigs made with a forehead piece, painted to match the face. Bald wigs are, of course, made in this way, and the edges are hidden with a thick dressing of grease paint, or, as it is sometimes called, joining paste. This being done, a coat of powder of the proper colour is delicately dusted on the face. Powder is prepared in every shade from white to orange. It has the effect of deadening the shininess of the grease paint, of softening the lines and blending the work into one harmonious whole.

Be careful, too, to make up your hands, a thing which many a good actor forgets. Yet how absurd it is to see an old, wrinkled face accompanied by young, plump hands. For an old man, the knuckles should be whitened, the hollows between them darkened, and the veins marked with white blue.

Actresses very seldom use grease paint, and, in fact, it is not necessary for them, as they rarely consent to line their faces. They generally use a liquid white, which has some mineral basis, and is in the end hurtful. The safest compound is a preparation of oxide of zinc, rose-water, and a few drops of glycerine. A little rouge, the darkening of the eyebrows, and a touch of red on the lips complete a lady’s make up. Most of them line below and above the eyelashes with black, which gives brilliancy to the eyes. They are very apt to overdo this, and then their eyes look like burnt holes in a blanket.

Stage Illusions.--Many of the peculiar effects which are produced upon the stage, imitating moonlight, sunlight, thunder, wind, rain, and other natural phenomena, are a puzzle to those outside of the business. How such realistic representations of these things as are often witnessed upon the stage can be made is a question that often enters the mind of the spectator, and is seldom answered in a satisfactory manner. It is always the ambition of scene painters and stage carpenters to devise improved methods of imitating these things, and hence the stage may be said to try to hold the mirror up to nature in a material as well as a moral sense. Years of experience have tended to bring these imitations to a high state of excellence; but the limits do not yet seem to be reached, and new contrivances are continually appearing. The electric light is not yet used, but as its pale blueish tint would be serviceable in particular effects, stage machinists are now deliberating how it can best be employed. All of the operations mentioned, together with some which will be described, are classed under the general term, “stage effects.” Authors, in writing plays, are always on the look-out for an opportunity to produce a telling effect. The amount of work bestowed upon their production in a theatre is simply astonishing to those unacquainted with that mysterious realm known as “behind the scenes.”

Thunder is a common stage effect, and is used with great advantage in many plays. In former days it was produced by shaking a large piece of sheet iron immediately above the prompter’s desk. This contrivance produced a good imitation of sharp, rattling thunder, but failed to give the dull roar which is always heard in storms. A contrivance for this purpose was soon invented. A heavy box frame is made, and over it is tightly drawn a calf skin. Upon this the prompter operates with a stick, one end of which is padded and covered with chamois skin. A flash of lightning, produced with magnesium, and a sharp crack of the sheet iron, followed by a long decreasing roll upon the “thunder drum,” produce an effect which is startlingly realistic. Travelling companies are compelled to be satisfied with the sheet iron alone; and the tragedian who enters a theatre provided with a complete thunder apparatus always is happy to think that his battle with the elements in “King Lear” will be worth fighting.

The rain machine in large theatres is a fixture placed high up in the “flies.” A cylinder is made of “half-inch” wood. It is usually 5 ft. in circumference, and 4 ft. in length. Upon the inside are placed rows of small wooden teeth. A lot of dried peas is placed in the cylinder, a rope belt is run around one end of it and down to the prompter’s desk, and it is ready for a drenching shower. By turning the cylinder, the peas roll down between the teeth, and the noise produced by them makes a good imitation of rain falling upon a roof. A sudden pull of the rope, accompanied by a gust on the “wind machine,” gives the sound of the sweep of a blast of wind during a storm. Travelling companies often meet with theatres where there is no rain machine. A sufficiently good one, however, is easily produced. A common child’s hoop is obtained, and a sheet of heavy brown paper is pasted upon it after the manner of a circus rider’s balloon. A handful of birdshot is placed upon the paper. The “machine” is canted from one side to the other, and the shot rolls around the paper, producing a fairly good rain effect.

Wind is an item that is very useful in heightening the effect of stage storms. It is often dispensed with in theatres where strict attention is not paid to details, but not without a loss of “realism.” It has, moreover, a great influence over the feelings of spectators. The blind Louise in the “Two Orphans” is much more pitied when the audience can hear the pitiless blast that makes her shiver. Hence in every large theatre the wind machine plays an important part. It is not a stationary apparatus, but can be moved to any quarter of the compass from which it is desired that wind should blow. In the last act of “Ours,” every time the door of the hut opens snow flies in and a shriek of wind is heard. The wind machine in that instance is placed just outside the door, and the property man works it, while his assistant amuses himself by trying to throw his paper snow down Lord Shendryn’s back. The wind machine is constructed in this manner: A heavy frame is made, in which is set a cylinder provided with paddles and resembling very much the stern wheels seen on Ohio River towboats. Across the top of this cylinder is stretched as tightly as possible a piece of heavy gros-grain silk. This silk remains stationary while the wheel is turned by a crank. The rapid passage of the paddles across the surface of the silk produces the noise of wind. Often travelling companies are in theatres where there is no wind machine. Then the property man groans audibly and proceeds to do what, in theatrical parlance, is called “faking” the wind. He selects a heavy piece of gas hose, called by stage gasmen “flexible,” and, finding a quiet corner where there is sufficient space to swing a cat without danger--to the cat--he whirls it around his head with the greatest possible rapidity. This method produces very satisfactory results--to every one but the property man. He is a long-suffering person; but the extraction of wind from “flexible” causes him to find life tedious.

Every one has heard the startling crash that is produced when the hero kicks the villain through a four-inch oaken door. One would think that not only the door but the villain must be completely shattered. This noise is produced by the crash machine, one of the oldest implements of imitation still used on the stage. It is similar to the wind machine in construction. A wheel with paddles set at an angle of about forty-five degrees to the radii is the main part of the machine. Upon the top of the wheel one end of a stout piece of wood is pressed down by fastening the other end to a portion of the framework. When the wheel is turned, the slats passing under the stationary piece produce a rattling crash. The principle of the machine is illustrated by the small boy who runs a stick along a paling fence and is gratified by introducing into the world an additional morsel of hubbub.

There is nothing that can be so well counterfeited on the stage as moonlight scenery. And yet there is nothing which requires more work. The artist begins the task by painting a moonlight scene. In daylight such a scene is a ghastly sight. It is done in cold greys and greens, in which Prussian blue and burnt umber play an important part, and the lights are put in with white slightly tinged with emerald green. The strong moonlight of the foreground is produced by a calcium light thrown through a green glass. The fainter light upon the scenery at the back of the stage is obtained from “green mediums,” a row of Argand burners with green chimneys. These are placed upon the stage just in front of the main scene, and are “masked in” from the view of the audience a “ground piece.” A row of them is often suspended from the “flies,” in order to light the top of the scene. This upper row is masked in by “sky borders.” Thus a soft green light is thrown over the entire distance, while its source does not meet the view of the spectator. A usual feature of stage moonlight scenes is water, because it affords an opportunity for the introduction of the “ripple”--a charmingly natural stage effect. The main scene in a moonlight view is always painted on a “drop”--that is, a scene made like the curtain let down between the acts. The position of the moon being determined, immediately under it, beginning at the horizon, a number of small irregular holes is cut in the drop. These are then covered on the back with muslin and painted over on the front to match the rest of the water. Behind these holes is placed an endless towel, about 8 ft. in height, running around two cylinders, one at the top and one at the bottom. The lower cylinder has a crank by which the towel is turned. In this towel is cut a number of holes similar to those cut in the drop. A strong gas burner is placed between the two sides of the towel. When the machine is turned the flashing of the light from the passing holes in the towel through the stationary ones in the drop produce a fine ripple. It is always better to turn the towel so that the holes pass upward, as that helps to make the mimic wavelets seem to dance up toward the sky. Instead of a towel a large tin cylinder has been used, but it is cumbersome and noisy. It is necessary to turn this towel with great steadiness, otherwise the ripples will go by fits and starts, and entirely lose their natural appearance. Stars are easily put into the sky. Each twinkling orb consists of a spangle hung upon a pin bent into a double hook. The slightest motion of the drop causes these stars to shake and the flashing of the light upon them produces the twinkle.

One of the most beautiful effects produced upon the stage is the change from day to night or from night to day. Of these the former is the more striking, and a description of it will serve to explain the principle of both. In order to produce the proper effect the back drop is made nearly double the height of the usual scenes. The upper half of it is painted to represent a sunset sky, and the lower half to represent moonlight. It is hung so that the upper half alone is visible. The scenery of the distance is then painted upon a separate piece, which is “profiled”; that is, the irregular line of the horizon made by trees, mountains, or houses, is sharply cut out with a circular saw. This piece is placed immediately in front of the sky drop. A few feet further in front is hung what is known as a cut gauze drop. This has sides and top of canvas painted as the case requires; while the centre is filled with fine gauze, which lends an aerial effect to the distance. Red “mediums” are employed to give a soft, sunset glow to the scene. At the proper moment, the back drop is very slowly and steadily hauled up, while the red “mediums” are slowly turned off and green ones turned on. The moon is made in the night half of the sky drop, and rises with it. When it rises above the distant horizon the green “mediums” are turned on to their full power and the green calcium light is brought into play. The effect of this change, when carefully managed, is always very beautiful, and is sure to draw forth applause from the audience.

Moonrise, in a scene where there is no change from daylight to darkness, is often produced with a muslin drop and a “moon box.” The muslin drop is painted to represent the sky, the clouds being painted on strips of canvas cut in the required shape and sewn on. The moon is made with a box on one side of which a circular hole is cut. Over this hole is pasted a piece of white muslin. A couple of wires serve to draw the moon upward. Of course the white illuminated circle shows plainly through the muslin sky, but disappears when passing behind the canvas clouds. By having another piece of muslin painted red and imperceptibly fading to white, placed at the back of the drop in the moon’s path, the orb of night can be made to appear red at the horizon and gradually change to pale yellow as it sails slowly upward. Floating clouds are easily imitated by hanging in front of the sky drop a gauze drop upon which are sewn muslin or canvas clouds, and moving the whole slowly.

An ocean of heaving waters is made in this way: Each bounding wave is cut out separately. The first row is set up with a distance of three or four feet between each billow; and the second row is set so as to show in the openings left by the first. Small boys furnish the motive power. The waves are rocked back and forth, not from side to side; and the effect is very good. The noise of water rolling upon a beach is well imitated in a simple manner. A box of light wood is lined with tin. By putting two or three ounces of bird-shot into this and causing it to roll around, the desired sound is produced.

Fire scenes are sometimes dangerous; but with proper care they may be rendered comparatively safe. That they are not so hazardous as is generally supposed by the uninitiated beholder may be learned from the following description:--One of the most familiar fire scenes is that which occurs in the “Streets of New York,” in which a three-story house burns down, the roof caving in, the shutters falling, and the walls breaking with a wonderful appearance of realism. The house is painted on three separate pieces, the top one of which is swung from the flies; this constitutes the roof. Upon the second is painted half the wall, and it is joined to the bottom piece in an irregular zigzag line. The simple dropping in succession of these pieces to the stage produces the falling of roof and wall. The fire itself is represented by chemical red fire and powdered lycopodium used separately, the former to give a red glow and the latter to represent flames. The shutters, which are to fall, are fastened to the scene with a preparation called “quick watch.” This is made of powder, alcohol, and a lamp wick. The window frames and sashes are made of sheet iron, covered with oakum soaked in alcohol or naphtha. These sashes and frames are not fastened to the canvas scene at all, but are placed a short distance behind it on platforms. The quickest possible touch of flame ignites the oakum, and, in a moment, the fire runs round the sash, and nothing apparently is left but the blackened and charred wood. Steam is used to represent the smoke that issues from the crannies in the walls of the burning building; and an occasional crash, followed by the ignition of a little powder to produce a sudden puff of smoke, gives the spectator the idea of a falling rafter. Behind the entire scene is placed a very large endless towel, upon which is painted a mass of flames. This is kept in constant upward motion, and, when viewed through an open window in the house, gives a good idea of the supposed furnace raging within.

Selecting a Play.--The following excellent list of plays adapted for amateurs was published in the Queen some years since.

IN 3 OR MORE ACTS. M. F. REMARKS.

Babes in the Wood 7 4 Don Cæsar de Bazan 9 2 Drama. Game of Speculation 9 4 Heir at Law 10 3 Jealous Wife 12 5 John Bull 14 3 Ladies’ Battle 5 2 Robertson’s translation. Love Chase 10 7 New Men and Old Acres 11 5 Palace of Truth 6 5 Plot and Passion 7 2 Drama. Pygmalion and Galatea 5 4 Rivals 8 4 Five acts. Society 11 5 Still Waters Run Deep 9 3 Can be acted in a drawing-room.

Most of the above are beyond the talent and stage resources of any but the strongest amateur companies.

IN 2 ACTS. M. F. REMARKS.

Bachelor of Arts 8 2 Good comedy. Charles XII. 7 2 Very good dress piece. Charles II. 4 2 Popular comedy and dress piece. Court Cards 5 4 Follies of a Night 6 2 House and the Home 3 3 Jacobite 3 3 Liar 4 3 Little Treasure 5 3 Very pathetic. My Heart’s Idol 7 3 Not a Bad Judge 9 2 Capital for amateurs. Our Wife 7 2 Good dress piece. Paul Pry 7 2 Secret Agent 8 3 The best dress piece for amateurs. Sweet Hearts 2 2 Time Tries All 6 2 Who Killed Cock Robin? 2 2 Wonderful Woman 6 3 Very popular. Woodcock’s Little Game 4 3 Capital light comedy.

IN 1 ACT.

Area Belle 3 2 As Like as Two Peas 3 2 A little vulgar. A.S.S. 3 2 B.B. 4 2 Bamboozling 6 3 Betsy Baker 2 2 Birthplace of Podgers 7 3 Boots at the Swan 4 4 Very sparkling. Book the Third 2 1 French Proverbe. Box and Cox 2 1 Box and Cox Married 3 3 Brown and the Brahmins 4 7 Burlesque. Comical Countess 3 1 Conjugal Lesson 1 1 A little vulgar. Cool as a Cucumber 3 2 Cozy Couple 2 2 Creatures of Impulse 4 3 Burlesque. Cup of Tea 4 1 French Proverbe. Cut off with a Shilling 2 1 Day After the Wedding 3 2 Dead Shot 5 2 Deaf as a Post 4 4 Dearest Mama 4 3 Delicate Ground 2 1 Light comedy. Diamond Cut Diamond 7 1 Done on Both Sides 3 2 Acts well in a drawing-room. Double Bedded Room 3 3 Doubtful Victory 3 2 Dumb Belle 3 2 Eclipsing the Sun 3 2 Eton Boy 3 2 Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady 6 2 Pretty dress piece. Fitz Smyth 6 2 Funny. Give a Dog a Bad Name 2 2 Grimshaw Bradshaw Bagshawe 4 2 Funny. Happy Pair 1 1 Sparkling Proverbe. He Lies Like Truth 5 2 Very funny. He’s a Lunatic 3 2 Very amusing. His Excellency 4 2 Household Fairy 1 1 Proverbe. Ici on Parle Français 3 4 Popular, but difficult. Irish Tutor 4 2 John Dobbs 5 2 Capital for amateurs. Lend me Five Shillings 5 2 Funny. Little Toddlekins 3 8 Almost the best farce for amateurs. Loan of a Lover 4 2 Love and Rain 1 1 Pretty Proverbe. Love Laughs at Locksmiths 6 6 Mad as a Hatter 5 2 Morning Call 1 1 Proverbe. Mummy 6 2 My Heart’s Idol 7 3 My Preserver 5 5 Nice Firm 8 2 Nice Quiet Day 5 3 Night at Notting Hill 3 2 Funny. Nine Points of the Law 4 3 No. 1 round the Corner 2 0 Good two-character piece. Only a Halfpenny 2 2 Funny. Our Clerks 8 4 Pacha of Pimlico 6 2 Funny extravaganza. Perfection 3 2 Easy and pretty little piece. Phenomenon in a Smock Frock 4 2 Mathews’ piece. Pipkin’s Rustic Retreat 5 3 Poor Pillicoddy 2 3 Very funny. Pork Chops 3 1 Extravaganza. Quiet Family 4 4 Raising the Wind 6 3 Capital old farce. Regular Fix 6 4 Very good light comedy. Retained for the Defence 5 1 Difficult. Rifle, and How to Use it 4 3 Rough Diamond 4 2 Popular farce. School for Coquettes 3 3 Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing 7 4 Pretty drama. Slasher and Crasher 5 2 Slowtop’s Engagements 2 2 Light comedy. Spectre Bridegroom 7 2 One of the most telling of farces. Spitalfields Weaver 4 1 Telling. Taming a Tiger 3 0 Thumping Legacy 7 1 Very funny. To Oblige Benson 3 2 To Parents and Guardians 17 3 To Paris and Back for £5 9 7 Funny, but a little vulgar. Too Much for Good Nature 4 7 Trying it On 3 3 Very good indeed for a drawing-room. Turkish Bath 5 2 Turn Him Out 3 2 Tweedleton’s Tail Coat 4 2 Twice Killed 6 3 Two Bonnycastles 3 3 Two Flats and a Sharp 1 2 Pretty comedy. Two in the Morning 2 0 Best farce for two males. Uncle’s Will 2 1 Very sparkling. Unwarrantable Intrusion 2 0 Under the Rose 2 2 Good. Vandyke Brown 3 3 Good farce. Whitebait at Greenwich 3 2 Popular, but difficult. Who Speaks First? 3 2 Your Life’s in Danger 3 3

First catch your actors, then choose your play. In other words, fit your available square men into a square piece, and do not try and pare them down to the exigencies of a round one. As a rule dramatic talent and ambition is more common among the emotional than among the sterner sex. Women, too, adapt themselves more easily to any part. Also, their range of parts is narrower. It is easier to make people laugh than to cry, and they also prefer being amused to being harrowed. Of course low comedy is just as difficult as a higher line, but a feeble imitation passes muster better than in the serious parts. Englishmen are less averse to playing the fool in a fool’s part than risking an exhibition of deeper feeling. It is easy, therefore, to group your lesser lights round the central low comedy man, reflecting his genial glow, more or less, according to their several abilities, and to graft upon the whole a farce. A farce need not be vulgar. A farce, too, like charity, covers a multitude of sins in the way of dress, properties, or scenery. Almost any incongruity of the former is allowable, and any makeshift or hitch in the latter can be carried off by a ready wit. But supposing comic talent to be altogether absent in your company, you will probably find the “old man” element predominating. The younger, better looking, and more stalwart the individual the more convinced he will be that his strong point is the impersonation of old men. Yet old men’s parts are difficult. The very make up in anything but the broadest farce is a work of art in itself, and the gait, the tone of voice, the laugh, the down sitting, and the up-rising must never be lost sight of for a moment. Usually, too, the old man character is an adjunct rather than the central figure in a piece, and does not bear upon his shoulders the burden and heat of the day. Yet in skilful hands it is capable of unlimited expansion, and with weaker vessels can, at worst, but sink to the level of low comedy.

Of all the parts most difficult to fill that of the lover is the worst. Like good tenors, there are not enough stage lovers brought into the world. Englishmen are so shy, so afraid of making themselves ridiculous by exhibiting sentiment and emotion. They are not given to making love particularly prettily in real life, much less upon the boards. The result in amateur circles is generally a stick. All the same, the lover is an absolute necessity in most plays, and must be procured somehow or other.

A judicious weighing of the strong points of each member of your company, and a nice balancing of their weak ones, must decide you finally in the choice of the piece to be acted. Take into consideration which characters have much to do together, and whether the weaker one can be pulled through by the stronger. The performance is sure to hang fire if a pair of feeble knees have the stage all to themselves for long, making each other and the audience nervous. On the other hand, if your company is much of a muchness, choose a “level” piece in which the parts are fairly equally divided. If the opposite is the case, give your best actors the strong parts, and subordinate the others to them.

Make up your mind from the beginning that some one is sure to consider him or herself ill-suited and ill-used. Women are greater sinners in this respect than men--more vain, more jealous. But if a piece, however small, is to “go,” each one must subordinate his own importance and his own part to the general effect. The cleverer the actor the more he will make of the smallest part. Nevertheless, the fact remains that private theatricals are productive of more quarrelling and bad blood than any other known form of social amusement. For this reason a stage manager, pure and simple, is absolutely essential. His word must be law and his rule of iron. He must give an eye to the general effect; he must order the sitting down and the getting up, and the crossing, and especially see that there is plenty of the former. He must see that when several characters are on the stage together they group well, do not get behind each other, and balance on the stage. At full rehearsals he should see that, if it is not practicable to rehearse on the stage itself, they take place on a square as large as the stage, and with each piece of furniture and property in its right place; also that the correct exits and entries are adhered to. This prevents amateurs feeling strange when they come to a final dress rehearsal on the stage itself. Any special little scenes between two characters can be gone over and over again privately.

Finally, having got your ingredients together, do not aim too high. The more plot, the more action in a piece, the easier it is to act. Beware of plays which read well, are full of smart dialogue--they require very finished acting.

A “dressed” or costume piece, though more trouble to get up, is more attractive than one of modern time. But when feasible, evening dress refines a modern play very much. Powder must be carefully put on, or after much heat and action, the performer assumes merely a grizzled aspect. In a dressed piece do not neglect the smallest details, and take care the female and male characters are dressed in the same period. In an outdoor scene, avoid an open parasol or umbrella as you would poison. It shades the face unless very dexterously manipulated. Let ladies look well to their “chaussure,” and the length, and especially the hang of the short skirts. These ought to be round, nothing looks so bad as a dab behind, showing the lining from the front.

“Making up” is a very delicate matter in a room where the audience is so near. It is generally overdone. Rouge is usually put on too low, it ought never to come below the cheek bone. Many people do not need to pencil their eyebrows at all, and a mere dab of black on the lower lid is better than a continuous line. When this latter is used, however, it is becoming to continue it a very little beyond the junction of the two lids towards the temples. For a bucolic part of either sex, a nice fat rosy cheek can be made by adding a little cotton wool judiciously rouged. Remember an “old man” does not want his eyes blacked at all.

Now, to touch on a few faults of amateurs.

Firstly, there is a tendency to play too much to the front of the stage. Do not be afraid of the stage; use it all. Do not come on and stand front face to the audience, addressing your remarks to them instead of to the character with whom you are conversing. Turn well away for your asides, or they sound ridiculous, and give the other a similar chance of making his. Remember, it is no crime to take a turn up the stage, with your back to the audience, and say a sentence, with your head well thrown back over your shoulder.

A second most important point is not to run your sentences together. Divide them well, giving each its particular character and its full value. Pause between them. Each word tells, and is put there for a purpose. And here let me beseech the amateur prompter to have some mercy on his victims, and not to hound them on, if they stop a moment, as if their lives depended on their getting the words out.

This brings me to a vital point, that of playing slowly enough. Amateurs can hardly do “business” of any kind--such, for instance, as writing a letter--too slowly.

Do not be ashamed of over-acting; it is better than under-acting a part. Learn your cues with your part, and insist on getting them correctly. Amateurs cannot take too much trouble.

One word as to elocution. Find out the pitch of your voice which carries best, and which is at the same time the most natural and the least exertion to you. You cannot fail then to be heard, always providing you remember not to drop your voice at the end of a sentence, and not to clip the final consonants of words.

A few practical hints, to close, as to stage and scenery. Do not attempt to put a piece with much action and several characters on to a small stage. The result is simply ridiculous. The stage must be raised, but a foot or so is enough in any ordinary-sized drawing-room. If it is too high, the players’ heads appear too near the ceiling. If possible, keep the front row of audience at least five feet from the footlights. Take care these latter are not too strong, but have plenty of lamps fixed on the back of the front wings and over the curtain inside. For this reason wings, though more trouble to set up, are preferable to a box scene. They also obviate the necessity of practicable doors, which do not shut or open properly, and never look real. It looks better to cut off the corners of the stage at the back, or, at any rate, to make the side narrow towards the back. Any trouble devoted to details of furnishing and setting the stage is well repaid by the effect; but of course the size and quantity of furniture must be ruled by the size of the stage. In an evening room scene, take care the lamps or candles are in the centre of the stage. Outdoor scenes are very difficult to manage on a temporary stage. A back painted scene is necessary, and in a room painted scenes look so coarse.

Any carpenter can run up a temporary stage in a drawing room, from a slight sketch, in a day, without doing any damage to the walls. The curtain ought to be rehearsed as much as the play, till it goes up and down or pulls aside without a hitch. (E. E. C.)

=Tricks and Illusions.=--Much amusement may be derived from the practice of conjuring tricks and illusions, and such entertainments are not without an educational value, as they excite curiosity and develop a desire in young minds to acquire knowledge, and induce an exercise of the reasoning faculties in endeavouring to learn how they are performed.

Sleight of Hand.--The following notes on sleight of hand tricks are taken from a chapter in A Curious Company, by that entertaining writer, Max Adeler.

“Before beginning to explain the modus operandi of the impromptu illusionist, let me just tabulate eight golden rules, which you must always bear in mind if you hope for anything like success.

“1. Never look at your hands, unless to attract attention to one of them.

“2. Cultivate the art of chattering freely, with as much original wit as you can invent, or plagiarise without fear of detection.

“3. Never tell a lie that you cannot stick to, and illustrate if necessary. You can always ward off an explanation for a few instants whilst you remove the chances of discovery, and you will find as you get on that you can boldly do the most outrageously transparent things coram populo, without being found out or observed.

“4. Your hands must always work together, never be easy with one hand and constrained with the other; unless you can by no other means distract the attention of some horribly sharp person from one hand, when an awkward movement of the other will often divert his undesired watchfulness.

“5. Cultivate the art of scoring off rude people, who ask awkward questions. If any one thinks he has discovered ‘the way it’s done’ (but not the right way), let him think so, and swagger his astuteness, and his desire to slip through to New Zealand will be all the greater when you prove him wrong. Sæpe interereunt aliis meditantes necem. If you are really found out beyond recovery, don’t try to carry it off; throw yourself at once on the generosity of the discoverer or discoverers, and ask him or her not to expose you; remember you are only an amateur, and not getting your living.

“6. Never go on an instant after you detect the least signs among the audience of ‘having had enough of it.’

“7. When doing anything quite harmless, make a great unostentatious parade of your innocence; your audience will be all the more ready to take you on trust when you are taking them in.

“8. Never perform a trick in public which you have not amply rehearsed in private.

“Your dress will of course, as a rule, be the ordinary evening dress, and unless you have a great reputation as a prestidigitateur, no alteration is required. However, a little pocket an inch deep, contrived in and hidden by the seam of the trousers just where the tips of the fingers fall when the hand is naturally lowered to the side is a great convenience for getting rid of small articles when palmed, or for producing them suddenly by the same means. Otherwise, the natural movement of getting at one’s handkerchief, &c., will answer the same purpose, if neatly and unostentatiously done. It is as well to turn up the coat-sleeves, for though they are never used in legerdemain, it is impossible to disabuse people of the notion that they are.

“These maxims (which are, after all, the chief art to be acquired by the amateur conjuror) having been digested, let us turn to the considerations of the principles and practice of the science of legerdemain. These may be summed up thus: Every conjuring trick or illusion, not involving the use of a stage, apparatus, and accomplices, is performed in, and has for its foundation one of three proceedings; these are, (1) The Palm, (2) The Pass, (3) The Slip, and the motive power of the trio is the same, and is expressed in one word, viz. ‘cheek.’

“1. Palming, is the art of holding in one hand any article (coin, card, &c.) unknown and unseen by the spectators, or of retaining in one hand anything which, by the ‘pass’ has apparently left it.

“2. Passing, is the art of so palming any article that it is apparently transferred to some other receptacle, or altering the position of the cards in a pack unseen by the audience.

“3. Slipping, is the art of moving, altering the position of, or getting possession of any single card without being detected, and,

“4. Cheek is--[3].

“Coin Sleights.--Palming.--1. Place a penny or florin across the middle joints of the second and third fingers of either hand, as at a, Fig. 99, reproduced from illustrations by Miss Dora Noyes; on slightly bending the hand in an easy and natural manner, the coin will be clipped, as at b, by the fleshy part of the other two joints, and the hand may be turned over, and in fact placed in any position, so long as the back of the hand is presented to the audience. This is a useful palm on an emergency, as when people suspect that the coin is in the palm of the hand it may be shown empty, the top joints of the fingers hiding the coin thus held.

“2. Place the coin between the joint of the thumb and the hand, and on slightly bending the thumb the coin will be held flat. This is most useful for changing, described further on, but as an ordinary concealment of a coin it is too dangerous except for small coins which the thumb is large enough to hide.

“3. The principal palm (from which the manipulation derives its name) is as follows: Place the coin so that one edge just touches the highest of the three marked lines that cross the palm of the hand, rather towards the thumb. On slightly bending the hand the coin will be retained; you will find it difficult at first, but practice will show you the exact spot, where the difficulty is reduced to a minimum. If you take the coin flatwise between the thumb, the tips of the second and third fingers, by naturally closing the fingers over and clasping them tight in the palm of the hand, the coin will be brought into the exact position, so that if you pick up a coin, by a sudden outward sweep you can cover this movement, and on recovering the hand the coin will be palmed and the hand apparently empty.

“Other means of holding a coin en cache will naturally present themselves when these have been thoroughly mastered.

“Passing.--1. Take the coin edgeways, between the thumb and the tips of the second and third fingers of the right hand, having the palm of the hand upwards, therefore the backs of the fingers presented to the audience, as at c. Approach the left hand to the right, with back of the hand upwards, and as soon as the left hand hides the tips of the fingers of the right hand, loosen the thumb so as to drop the coin on to the second and third fingers, as at d. Immediately close the left hand as if taking the coin out of the right hand and raise it up; meanwhile bend the fingers of the right hand so as to effect palm No. 1, and lower it steadily to the side or holding the coin as in palm No. 1, and hidden by the bend of the little finger raise the right hand to the mouth and cough slightly before lowering it, this shows the audience (apparently) that the right hand is empty. Meanwhile you play about with the left hand, in which the audience thinks is the coin, and when you have diverted their attention and disposed of the coin you can imitate the motion with the left hand of throwing the (imaginary) coin into the air or rubbing it away to nothing, or any other fanciful way of (apparently) disposing of it, or if you have safely got rid of the coin, suddenly rub your hands together and gradually display the two hands both empty. This is one of the most effective and easy passes.

“2. Lay the coin on the left hand, approach the right to it, take the coin between the fingers and thumb of the right, carry the right hand smartly back, performing palm No. 3. Holding the left hand open jerk the right hand close to it, really holding the penny in the right palm, but apparently throwing it into the left; as you do it shut the fingers of the left hand smartly over the palm so as to produce a slap which people think is the slap of the coin falling into the hand, hold up the left hand so that people look at it, and lower the right with the coin palmed (No. 3); if any one is suspicious shift the coin to palm No. 1, and apparently show the hand empty in some artful manner. Then do what you like with the imaginary coin in the left hand.

“3. To pass several coins, let them all be (if possible) of the same size and hold them tight in the palm of the right hand, then perform pass No. 2, in exactly the same manner as with a single coin, except that instead of holding them in the palm they fall with a clink into the bend of the fingers where they must at once be secured by the thumb beyond fear of further rattle. The chink thus produced, the audience thinks is produced by the coins falling into the other hand, which being immediately closed apparently holds the coins. It is a ticklish trick to perform well, owing to the necessarily constrained position of the right hand, but when got well into control is very effective indeed.

“There are many other palms and passes, but with these all sleight-of-hand tricks may be done, and out of them the amateur can invent a quantity of simple little impromptu experiments.

“Card Sleights.--These are far more extensive than coin tricks, for the cards in themselves are in a way apparatus, the active principles of which are, as with coin, the palm, the pass, and cheek, to which are added last, but not least, the slip and the turnover. You must constantly ‘Ruffle’ the cards, i.e. holding the pack in one hand draw the fingers or thumb of the other across the edges at one end so as to rattle them all together. It conceals any manipulation which may have startled the audience, and should therefore be done in a quick or degagé manner after every sleight or whenever needed, and as the audience do not understand it, they think that this movement is the actual operation by which the wonders are performed.

“Palming.--This is done as follows: Hold the pack as at d, Fig. 99, in the left hand, and covering the pack lengthways with the right, so that the top joint of the fingers touches the top edge of the top card, slide the top card forward, and press down the tips of the fingers; the card will be thus pressed into the hand and lie curled up in it as in e, if thin small cards are used, a card (or even two or three) thus held will be completely hidden by the hand, and may be curled up tight without injury to the card. In this sleight, it is difficult to avoid a constrained position of the hand, but it is very useful as hereinafter described for changing cards.

“Passing.--This is the great stumbling-block of the amateur miracle-monger, and will require most practice, for when you begin it will seem impossible to do it en cache. Its object is to reverse the two halves of the pack (in fact, a sort of automatic cut; in fact the French term is ‘sauter la coupe,’ for by its means the demoralising effect of a cut may be avoided), and when properly practised and perfected it is done noiselessly, in a manner incomprehensible to the conjuror himself. Often, practising the pass before a looking-glass, I have wondered myself at my own performance, so completely does the automatic and sympathetic movement of the hands deceive the eye. The pack being divided into two halves, it is held in the left hand as at f, i.e. as seen from the front there is no division, but really whilst three fingers clasp it, it is divided (above or below any given card, or, as the case may be) by the little finger. Now cover the pack lengthways with the right hand, slip the first finger in also as at g, so that the upper half of the pack is held as it were in a hinge formed by the fingers of the left hand. Now seize the lower half between the thumb and fingers and the right hand, and press it sideways into the lower joint of the thumb as at h. Now by means of the fingers of the left hand raise the upper half hinge-wise, and with the fingers and thumb of the right, lift the lower half till it is just clear of the top half as at i, when on pressing down the thumb the lower half will be pressed over the top half as at j. The fingers may then be removed, and your purpose is accomplished; i.e. the top and bottom halves of the pack have changed places. As you acquire practice it will only be necessary to insert the little finger of the left hand, instead of two. It is well to lower the hands sharply as you perform this sleight, to cover the movement, which, however, by practice is reduced to a minimum. It is also well, if you feel that some one is suspicious, to ruffle the cards immediately afterwards to divert suspicion. This sleight requires much private rehearsal, but is the mainspring of a great many tricks, and its practice gives the hands a suppleness and sympathy not to be acquired in any other way.

“The turnover is a sleight, practised when it is desired to present the backs of the cards whichever way the pack is presented. It is performed as follows: Beginning exactly as with the pass, except that when i is reached instead of pressing the lower half over the top, the movement is continued to k, so that the two halves of the pack face one another, and now whether the top or bottom half be uppermost, the backs of the cards will be visible. You can now deal off cards from either half, and when you want to cease, and begin from the other, hold the cards as in d, but the thumb instead of being over the pack it is underneath as at l, so that the attention of the audience being diverted (by counting the cards already dealt, or otherwise) by an upward pressure of the thumb the pack is completely reversed, and the heretofore undermost card is now at the top. This is the principle of most tricks involving counting off cards.

“Slips.--These are the most useful and frequently required sleights practised by the amateur conjuror, and consist of the knack of drawing a card from the top, middle, or bottom of the pack, and placing it in any position in the pack which may be required by the trick.

“1. The pack being held in the ordinary manner in the left hand, with a chosen card on the top (either placed there by the chooser, or by the pass, or one of the subjoined slips), lift off the top half, raising it rather hingewise, so that the top card being retained by the fingers of the left hand it is left on the top of the half retained in the left hand, as in m.

“2. The chosen card being on the top of the pack, being held as at d, and covered lengthwise by the right hand, by a sudden contraction of the fingers of the left hand, the top card is drawn off (under the right hand) as at n, with a ‘flip,’ caused by the bending of the card as it bends and straightens out at the bottom of the pack. The cards are immediately ‘ruffled’ to disguise the flip. In the same manner a card may be sprung from the bottom to the top, or from the top to the centre, in the latter case the pack being opened a little in the left hand, and the top half slightly raised by the thumb and fingers of the right hand. The elasticity of the card will cause it to spring, in the instant it finds an opening.

“3. A card having been chosen, the pack is presented, just raising the top half to make a place for it, but not looking at the place, or indeed at the hands at all. The card being inserted, before replacing the top half the two middle fingers are inserted just over it, and directly the two halves join, the card is flipped out by the two fingers as in n, and brought to the bottom. The cards are immediately ‘ruffled,’ and your point is gained, i.e. you know the exact card chosen. If the chooser demurs to re-inserting the card at the opening you make--

“4. Spread out the pack fanwise before him, spreading them to your right, and letting the fingers of your two hands meet underneath the fan. By this means wherever he pushes in his card, you can feel it, and in collapsing the fan into pack form, the fingers are slipped in over the top as in slip No. 3, and the card is flipped out as there set down.

“These demonstrate the active principles of slips, which your own ingenuity will multiply ad infinitum. It will be seen that by their means any card chosen and returned to the pack may be at once secured and ascertained, which is the prime object of the card trickster, in whatsoever experiment he may be engaged. Simply a ‘slip,’ combined with any of the following ‘exposures,’ will constitute a trick in itself, far above the comprehension of any one not himself a master of the art.

“Exposures.--These are the methods of ‘exposing’ a card chosen, and returned to the pack. Your own fancy will suggest any quantity of methods, but the following are a few for a start. In fact, almost all card-tricks consist of one sleight, and a more or less complicated exposure.

“1. Slip the chosen card to the top. Let the pack be held by any one (say the chooser of the card) with the face upwards, i.e. so that his card is at the bottom. See that the pack is held well into the hand of the holder, secured by the thumb set rather near the edge of the pack. Now, with your own hand, or let any one else, strike the pack smartly downwards, and all the cards will be knocked out of his hand except the bottom one (his own) which remains staring him in the face, retained by adhesion to his own fingers. Result, natural, but extraordinary.

“2. Slip the chosen card to the top. Take the pack in the right hand, and cover it with the left, as you do so sliding the top (chosen) card sideways till it projects nearly half over the side of the pack. This state of things will be hidden by the left hand, holding the pack endways. On dropping the pack bodily from the left hand at an elevation of about 1½ feet from floor or table, the top (chosen) card will turn as it falls, and lie face upwards on the top of the pack. Result, simple, but startling.

“3. Slip the chosen card to the top. Give the chooser a paper knife, and, holding the pack as at d, tell him to cut the pack with it where he likes. Where he cuts, divide the pack, and lift off the top half, doing at the same time slip No. 1, which will bring his card to the top of the lower half. Put down the top half, and observing that you in no way influenced his cut, tell him to take the (now) top card. He will be surprised to find it his own. Result, easy but supernatural.

“Space forbids me to suggest any others, which you can easily work out for yourself. If time and space would allow, it would be easy to fill a volume with card tricks requiring no preparation, apparatus, or accomplices; but as they are all based upon the above sleights, mere repetition would be useless.

“The following selection are very telling and are easily performed.

“1. To tell any card by looking at its back. This is founded on a manipulation, which I have not described above, and which is called the ‘drawback.’ The pack is held in the left hand as at p, with the faces downwards. Look at the bottom card, and as you turn the pack down draw down the bottom card with the little finger as at q. Asking some one to tell you when to stop, commence drawing back the cards on the top as at o. When told to stop, name the bottom card (looked at and drawn back) and drawing out all the intermediate cards, inform the teller that that is the card he stopped at, and in effect on turning up the remaining cards, the card drawn back and named will be at the bottom, and apparently the one at which he stopped. I have done this trick twenty times running without being detected.

“2. Let any one choose a card and get it to the bottom of the pack by slips Nos. 3 or 4. Put down the cards haphazard in three packs, noting at the bottom of which the chosen card is. Ask the chooser in which pack he would imagine his card to be; if he chooses the right one (which is lucky) throw away the other two; if not, place the one he chooses on the right one and throw away the other wrong one. Redivide the cards left into three packs and proceed as before, always retaining the pack at the bottom of which his card is, until only three cards are left, including the right one. If he now chooses the right one it is exceptional luck, though it often so happens: if not, appear to hesitate a moment, and then retaining his own and the one he chooses, throw away the third, and mixing the two left but remembering his own yourself, throw them down, and the chances are even he will choose his own card. If he doesn’t, boldly throw down the one he chooses and turn up the other, which is his own. Casually observe that you in no way influenced his choice, and leave him astonished.

“3. Pass or slip the chosen card to the top and make a great show of a false shuffle, i.e. shuffle all the cards, but retain or manipulate the top card so that it is shuffled to the bottom and thence back to the top. Then have the cards cut, and taking them up yourself, slip out the card by slip Nos. 3 or 4, and re-slip it to the top, or avoid the entire cut by means of the pass. Having convinced him that his card is lost in gurgite vasto of the pack, let him count off 8 cards from the top and spread them in any order in a row, face downwards, but keep your eye on and note the position of the first or top card, which is his own. Put away the rest of the pack, and tell him to touch four out of the eight. If he touches his own amongst them, take up and throw away the four untouched, or if he does not touch his own, take up those he touches. Then let him touch two of the four left, and throw away as before, leaving his own one of the two left. Then let him touch one of the two left, and as before leave his own solus. Turn it up, and his astonishment will be unbounded. Your victim will often enable you always to throw away the ones touched, and of course this improves the trick, otherwise it is twenty to one against his noticing that you do not always throw away the same set. If he does, you must trust to providence and let the best liar win.

“4. Choose out the four kings (or any other four similar cards) and divide the pack into two halves, place the cards, a black on the top and a red on the bottom of one half, and a red on the top and a black on the bottom of the other half, so that when the halves are united the two blacks will be in the middle and the two reds on the top, as you reunite them slip in the little finger as at f. Make the victim recite aloud the position of the reds and that of the blacks, and repeat it after him so that there is no doubt. Freely expose the faces fanwise (keeping the place) to let him be certain. When this is accomplished make the ‘pass’ so as to reverse the order of things. Expose the pack as reversed, and begging him to be more careful in future repeat the experiment to his utter mystification. If you are really good at ‘passing,’ this trick may be repeated over and over again with great effect.

“5. To change a card without the help of the pack proceed thus: Slip the chosen card to the top, and make a false shuffle. Then take off, apparently only the top one, but really the top two, and hold them up by the edges, so that the top (right) one is completely hidden by the second (wrong) one. Putting the pack quite away behind at some distance from you, bring forward your (double) card in the left hand and show it to the chooser, asking if it is his own. As he will say no, appear confused and let him be quite positive and assertive that it is not his own. Take the (double) card lengthwise and face downwards in the right hand, walk back towards the pack, as you do so draw off the (right) card, leaving the wrong one palmed in the right hand as at d. Bring it forward again in the right hand (which in holding, the right will conceal the wrong card), as if to make quite sure, when the chooser will find it to be changed into his own card.

“6. This trick is somewhat similar to the last. Take out the four kings, and spread them out fanwise, but let the second have concealed behind it as in the last trick, two other court cards (court cards are best as being not so noticeable in case of accident). Hold them up, saying, ‘You see I have here the four kings,’ close them up smartly and lay them face downwards on the top of the pack, so that the order is now, 1 king, 2 false ditto, 3 false ditto, 4, 5 and 6 kings. Take off the first (which is real) and apparently unintentionally show its face and place it at the bottom of the pack. Take off the next (false one) without showing it, and place it into the pack near the bottom. Place the next (false one) similarly into the pack near the top. Take off the fourth (real) and apparently unintentionally exposing its face, commence to put it into the middle; when half way, however, change your mind and place it on the top of the pack. Say, ‘Well, these kings are all well separated now, to mix them still further will you kindly cut the pack;’ this operation will of course join all four again in the middle. ‘Ruffle’ the pack and spreading it out fanwise expose them en masse in the centre. If neatly done this is an excellent illusion.”

Physical Experiments.--There are many illustrations of physical laws which admit of exhibition without the aid of any special apparatus, and which may be made highly instructive. Most of the following examples are borrowed from Max Adeler’s Curious Company.

(a) Equilibrium.--Stick 2 forks into a cork, and place the cork on the brim of the neck of a bottle (Fig. 100). The forks and the cork form a whole, of which the centre of gravity is fixed over the point of support. You can tip the bottle, empty it even, if it contains fluid, without the little construction over its mouth being in the least disturbed from its balance. The vertical line of the centre of gravity passes through the point of support, and the forks oscillate with the cork, which serves as their support, thus forming a movable structure, but much more stable than one is inclined to suppose. This curious experiment is often performed by conjurors, who inform their audience that they will undertake to empty the bottle without disturbing the cork. (b) If a woodcock has been served for dinner, or any other bird with a long beak, take off the head at the extreme end of the neck; then split a cork so that you can insert into it the neck of the bird, which must be tightly clipped to keep it in place; two forks are then fixed into the cork, exactly as in the preceding example, and into the bottom of the cork a pin is inserted. This little contrivance is next placed on a piece of money, which has been put on the opening of the neck of the bottle, and when it is fairly balanced, give it a rotatory movement, by pushing one of the forks as rapidly as you please, but as much as possible without any jerk. You will then see the two forks, and the cork surmounted by the woodcock’s head, turning on the slender pivot of a pin. Nothing can be more comical than to witness the long beak of the bird turning round and round, successively facing all the company assembled round the table, sometimes with a little oscillation, which gives it an almost lifelike appearance. (c) Lifting a glass bottle full of water by means of a simple wisp of straw. The straw is bent before being passed into the bottle of water, so that, when it is lifted, the centre of gravity is displaced, and brought directly under the point of suspension. It is well to have at hand several pieces of straw perfectly intact and free from cracks, in case the experiment does not succeed with the first attempt. (d) The next experiment, though apparently very difficult, will be found easy enough in practice if the hand be steady. Take a key, and by means of a crooked nail, or “holdfast,” attach it to a bar of wood by a string tied tightly round the bar. To the other extremity of the bar attach a weight, and then drive a large-headed nail into the table. It will be found that the key will balance and even move upon the head of the nail, without falling. The weight is under the table, and the centre of gravity is exactly beneath the point of suspension. Inertia.--(e) Take a broomstick, and place it horizontally, passing the ends through two paper rings. Then ask two children to hold the paper rings by means of two razors, so that the rings rest on the blades. This done, take a stout stick, and, with all your strength, strike the broomstick in the centre; it will be broken into shivers, but the paper rings will not be torn in the least, or even cut by the razors! (f) A modification of e. A needle is fixed at each end of the broomstick, and these needles are made to rest on two glasses, placed on chairs; the needles alone must be in contact with the glasses. If the broomstick is then struck violently with another stout stick, the former will be broken, but the glasses will remain intact. The experiment answers all the better the more energetic the action. (g) A wooden ball is suspended from the ceiling by a rather slender thread, and a similar thread is attached to the lower end of the ball. If the lower thread is pulled forcibly it will break with the force of the pull; the movement communicated to it has not time to pass into the ball; if, on the contrary, it is pulled very gradually, and without any shock, the upper thread instead will break, because in this case it supports the weight of the ball. Motion is not imparted simultaneously to all parts of a body, but only to the particles first exposed to a blow, for instance. One might multiply examples of this. If a bullet be shot from a gun, it will make a round hole in a piece of wood or glass, whilst if thrown by the hand--that is to say, with much less force--it will shiver the wood or the pane of glass to pieces. When the celerity of the motive force is very great, the particles directly affected are disturbed so quickly that they separate from the adjacent particles before there is time for the movement to be communicated to the latter. (h) It is possible, for the same reason, to extract from a pile of money a piece placed in the middle of the pile without overturning the others. It suffices to move them forcibly and quickly with a flat wooden ruler. The experiment succeeds very well also if performed with draughtsmen piled up on the draught-board. (i) Take a strip of paper, and upon it place a coin, on a marble chimney-piece. If, holding the paper in the left hand, you strike it rapidly and forcibly, you will be enabled to draw away the paper without causing the coin (say a five-shilling piece) to fall down. (j) It is not impossible to draw away a napkin laid as a tablecloth for one person’s dinner, without disturbing the various articles laid upon it. A quick motion is all that is necessary, keeping the napkin tightly extended by the hands at the same time. This latter experiment, however, is not recommended to boys home for the holidays.

Pressure of Air.--(k) The force of air can be shown as acting with considerable pressure upon an egg in a glass. By blowing in a claret glass containing a hard-boiled egg, it is possible to cause the egg to jump out of the glass; and with practice and strength of lungs it is not impossible to make it pass from one glass to another. (l) The force of heated air ascending can also be ascertained by cutting up a card into a spiral, and holding it above the flame of a lamp. The spiral, if lightly poised, will turn round rapidly. (m) A wine glass, a plate, and water will serve for the next experiment. Pour some water on the plate, light a piece of paper resting on a cork, and cover the flame with the glass, which turn upside down. The water rises in the glass. Why?--Because the burning of the paper having absorbed a part of the oxygen, and the volume of confined gas being diminished, the pressure of the outer air has driven back the fluid. Next fill a goblet with water up to the brim, and cover it with a sheet of paper, which touches both the edge of the glass and the surface of the water. Turn the glass upside down, and the sheet of paper prevents the water running out, because it is held in place by atmospheric pressure. It sometimes happens that this experiment does not succeed till after a few attempts on the part of the operator; thus it is prudent to turn the glass over a basin, so that, in case of failure, the water is not spilt. (n) Having obtained a vase and a bottle, both quite full of water, take the bottle, holding it round the neck so that the thumb can be used as a stopper, then turn it upside down, and pass the neck into the water in the vase. Remove your thumb, or stopper, keeping the bottle in a vertical position, and you will see that the water it contains does not escape, but remains in suspension. It is atmospheric pressure which produces this phenomenon. If, instead of water, we put milk in the bottle, or some other fluid denser than water, we shall see that the milk also remains suspended in the bottle. (o) Light a piece of paper, and let it burn, plunging it into a water-bottle full of air. When the paper has been burning a few seconds close the opening of the water-bottle by means of a hard-boiled egg, which you have previously divested of its shell, so that it forms a hermetic stopper. The burning of the paper has now caused a vacuum of air in the bottle, and the egg is gradually thrust in by the atmospheric pressure outside. (p) Take a thin piece of wood about ⅛ in. thick, 8 in. wide, and 24 in. long, and lay it upon a table so that it shall project over the edge. It is evident that the least pressure will make it tilt and fall. Next spread out a large newspaper over the end that lies upon the table. Now if you strike a sharp blow with your fist on the projecting portion, you will be much surprised to see that the board resists the shock, just as if it were nailed to the table. If you strike hard you may injure your hand, or perhaps the board will break into pieces, but you will not lift the simple paper that holds it. The downward pressure of the atmosphere upon a wide surface explains the phenomenon. In order that the experiment may succeed well, the paper should be spread flat and evenly upon the table, and all the folds should be smoothed out so as to expel the interposed air.

Equilibrium of Floating Bodies.--(q) The equilibrium of bodies floating upon liquids is an occurrence of daily observation, but such is not the case as regards aeriform fluids--a soap bubble filled with air and floating upon a stratum of carbonic acid, for example. Although this pretty experiment would seem to require complicated apparatus to carry it out, it may nevertheless be performed very simply, as follows:--Having procured a glass vessel, such as a bell-glass, of medium size, place it, mouth upward, upon a tripod made of coarse wire, or upon any other support. In the bottom of this vessel place a mixture formed of equal parts soda bicarbonate and tartaric acid reduced to powder. The quantity of powder to be employed depends upon the size of the vessel and the thickness of the stratum of carbonic acid that it is desired to have. Soda bicarbonate contains carbonic acid to the amount of half its weight, and consequently it is necessary to decompose 4 grammes (66 gr.) of bicarbonate to produce 1 litre (61 cub. in.) of carbonic acid gas. Over the mouth of the glass vessel place a disc of cardboard of sufficient size to cover it exactly, and, in the centre of this, make a circular aperture to allow of the passage of a glass rod of sufficient length to rest upon the bottom and project externally. Through this tube, and by means of a small funnel, water is introduced in small quantities at a time (so as not to produce too lively an effervescence) until the powder is entirely covered. When the carbonic acid ceases to be given off, the tube is taken out.

Care should be taken to prepare beforehand a solution of soap in water, or, what is better, some of Plateau’s glyceric liquid. With either of these liquids, bubbles about 4 in. in diameter are blown at the extremity of a tube that flares slightly. This tube should be held vertically while carrying the bubble over the cardboard cover, and the latter should be carefully removed by sliding it off horizontally, and the bubble be then detached in such a way that it shall fall in the direction of the vessel’s axis. If the fall occurs from a certain height, the ball will rebound as if it were repelled by a spring. It will then descend and rise again, and finally become immovable. It is at this moment that it is well to replace the cover, so that no disturbance shall occur in the interior of the vessel.

The bubble then resembles a small balloon in equilibrium in the atmosphere of the vessel; but, in reality, it is floating upon the invisible stratum of carbonic acid. This equilibrium, however, is of short duration, since the carbonic acid rapidly dissolves in the liquid envelope of the bubble, and passes into the interior of the latter, and increases its weight to such a degree as to cause it to gradually descend to the bottom of the vessel, where it disappears. But a suspension of several balls may be obtained successively, that is to say, the experiment may be repeated several times, if, on removing the cover, care be taken not to disturb the atmosphere of the vessel.

The soap bubble may be replaced by one of those small rubber balloons that please children so much, and that weigh, on an average, 1 gramme each. Upon inflating one of these to a diameter of about 6 in., we shall obtain an equilibrium that has greater fixedness and duration, and may observe the phenomenon at our leisure.

Chemical Experiments.--It is well known that the vapours of mercury are very diffusive in their nature, and some quite singular experiments have been devised based upon this, and upon the fact that the salts of silver and the chlorides of gold, platinum, iridium, and palladium are affected by these mercurial vapours. If any one, for instance, write upon a sheet of white paper with platinum chloride, no mark would be visible, as the liquid is quite colourless. If, however, the same sheet of paper be held over a little mercury, the metal will be brought out on the paper in dark tints. This magical apparition of a figure or drawing on a sheet of paper which appears to be perfectly white is very astonishing to the spectator.

On the other hand, reversing the experiment, a no less marvellous result is obtained. At first expose the drawing in writing to the gases of mercury; the lines will become charged with mercury, and then by simply bringing the drawing in contact with a sheet of paper previously sensitised with a solution of platinum, the drawing will be reproduced, line for line, on the white paper. Drawings made in this way give a charming effect, the tones being very soft and the lines being distinct and clear.

Optical Delusions.--Those talking decapitated persons that are so often seen in various kinds of shows are one of the sights that always prove successful. They have already astonished a number of generations past, and will probably prove just as attractive to those that shall succeed our own. These decapitated persons are seen under different aspects according to the tricks employed to produce the illusion, and which all have the same aim in view, that is, to cause the appearance, on a table or tray, of a living head with no visible body. This illusion may be produced in several ways. (a) At the Foire aux Pains d’Epices of 1880, one of the side shows exhibited a decapitated person as follows: The small stage, which was draped with a black fabric covered with silver spangles, was feebly lighted by a sort of night lamp attached to the ceiling. To the right and left were seen panoplies of skulls and cross-bones. The spectators were in darkness. In the middle of this grim place a tray was suspended by 3 small chains at about 3 ft. from the floor, and upon this tray there was a living head--that of a young man who an instant before had shown himself to the public. His body lay extended out under the tray, and his head talked, drank, and smoked, while his arms and legs moved. Both, although quite distinct, were perfectly alive.

The trick by which the illusion was obtained consisted in this: The body belonging to the apparently decapitated head was hidden behind, under the tray, and was completely invisible owing to the shadow of the latter, and the partial darkness of the stage. The apparent body was that of another person of exactly the same height, size, and dress, whose head was in the dark and further hidden by black cloth.

(b) Recently there was exhibited at Paris, in what is called the “Théâtre des Merveilles,” another example of a decapitated person. A young girl first appears before the audience, accompanied by an executioner clad in red and armed with the traditional axe. Then the curtain drops, but rises in a few moments, and shows the stage a little darkened. Near the executioner, however, can be perfectly distinguished the girl’s head lying on a round table at the back of the stage; her body is seen lying on a bed at a few feet from her head, and at her side is the fatal block that has served for the execution. The effect is dramatic. The trick employed is the same as the preceding, in that it requires two persons of the same size wearing the same costume. One of these--the one who showed herself to the public--makes the head, her body being hidden behind the cloth in the rear of the stage. The other, who makes the body, has her head bent far back and hidden in a sort of box, a false cardboard neck contributing to increase the illusion.

(c) Upon entering the room we perceive a black wooden square table having 4 legs. Over one of its angles there is thrown a piece of red fabric whose other end may be perfectly seen hanging from the opposite side. The floor, which is strewn with straw, is continuous to the back of the stage. There is nothing under the table, then--there can be no doubt of it. Still, upon this table there lies on a tray the head of a young girl which smiles and answers questions that are asked it. The ingenuous spectators are almost persuaded that the girl has no body; others ask themselves where it is hidden; and very peculiar suppositions are indulged in on all sides. In a word, the illusion is perfect.

When, through favour or money, we enter the side scene and look at the table sideways, we are almost ashamed of having allowed ourselves to be deceived by so simple a trick; for the apparatus consists, in fact, only of a mirror fixed obliquely to two legs of the table. This mirror hides the body of the girl, who is on her knees or seated on a small stool, and reflects the straw which covers the floor so as to make it appear continuous under the table, and likewise reflects the front leg of the table so as to make it appear at an equal distance from the other side and thus produce the illusion of a fourth leg. It also reflects the end of the red fabric hanging in front of the table, and thus makes it appear to hang down also from behind. It should be remarked that during the exhibition the spectator stands only a few inches away from the table and head, being separated therefrom by a wooden railing from which hangs a curtain reaching to the ground. Such proximity of the spectator and actor would seem to favour a discovery of the trick; but, on the contrary, it is indispensable to its success. Were the spectator placed at a distance, and did the curtain not exist, he might by stooping see his legs reflected in the mirror. The curtain, then, prevents any one from looking under the railing, and the rays that might reach him from the curtain, by being reflected in the glass, are lost beneath the table, owing to the proximity of the latter.

As may be seen, the trick is easily understood, and, moreover, it is one of those that gives the best results, since it deceives the public the best. Besides, it has the merit of great age.

(d) The living half-woman is a very ingenious improvement on the decapitated individual. On entering, we perceive, when the curtain is drawn aside, an elegant little room decorated with flowers and lights and hung with curtains and tapestry. In front there are two railings, and the floor is covered with a carpet. In the centre is seen a small square table, on which rests a sort of three-legged stool supporting a cushion and the half body. The latter is the body of a young woman apparently cut in two just beneath the thighs. Naturally, this young person shows that she is alive by moving her arms and head, and speaking and singing. Now, as we can see the 4 legs of the table and can perfectly distinguish the space under the stool, and that too in full light, we naturally ask by what means the lower part of the girl’s body is hidden. On raising the stool, it will be seen that it is formed only of a hollowed-out disc whose supports are connected by two mirrors, that make with each other an angle of 45°. These mirrors rest on the top of the table, which is decorated with regular designs in mosaic, and reflect the latter in such a way that they seem to continue uninterruptedly under the stool. The table presents an analogous arrangement, two legs being connected with the foremost one by two mirrors (the table is placed cornerwise to the audience). These mirrors reflect not only the designs of the carpet, which by their continuity produce the illusion of a vacancy, but also 2 table legs located on each side behind the railings. The mirror to the left transmits to the spectators on that side the image of the leg placed on the left, and this image seems to them to be the fourth leg of the table. The mirror to the right plays the same rôle with regard to the spectators on that side. These mirrors, in addition, hide the lower portion of the girl’s body.

(e) The Dircksian phantasmagoria, which was more generally known as “Pepper’s Ghost,” is another example of the illusive effects of mirrors suitably arranged. On a moderate scale the same spectral apparitions can be produced as an entertainment for the drawing-room.

Dircks arranged an oblong chamber in two equal portions, making the separation by means of one vertical screen of thin glass having a perfectly true surface. Suppose each chamber to measure 12 ft. square and 12 ft. high. Let one of these be the stage on which the acting is to take place; its floor and three of its walls are solid, and the fourth or front of it is one entire glass screen; the ceiling must be made to open at different parts to let in light, and have suitable blinds to regulate the light and shade in which the actors perform. The chamber opposite, or facing the actors, is in reality a second stage for carrying out the spectral performances, and is differently constructed; the two sides may be large folding or sliding doors, or may be left quite open, or one side closed and the other open; but the ceiling must cover only that half of the top away from the glass screen or partition, thus leaving an open space in the ceiling of 6 ft. by 12 ft.; through this space so left in the ceiling the spectators obtain a full view of the stage, their seats being above the half ceiling described, and thrown rather backwards than forwards; the line of vision thus being at an angle of about 45° with respect to the vertical glass screen, or plane unsilvered crystal mirror. It will now be obvious that the actor on the stage beneath the seats of the spectators can only be seen by reflection, and the trained actor on the opposite stage, knowing the precise situations of the reflection as seen by the spectators, performs accordingly, so that, when really seeming to stand confronting the vision, the actor, whose reflection is thus seen as a vision, is as far from the screen on one side as his reflection is cast on the other.

Some striking effects may be produced illustrative of the illusive properties of optical apparatus constructed on the principle described. Thus, a figure placed before a white screen is so strongly reflected, that the spectator cannot divest his mind of their being the substance and not the shadow which he observes, particularly as he contrasts them with an adjacent solid figure. By placing two figures of corresponding form equidistant, one on each side of the glass mirror or screen, they appear as one, until one is moved; and if they differ in colour, as one blue and one white, the effect seems more remarkable. If a cabinet, box, or the like, is placed, one on each side of the mirror, until the image of one exactly corresponds with the material figure of the other, then the spectator may see the visionary figure open a drawer or door, and remove and replace anything therein, and afterwards the solid figure repeat the same acts. If the reflection of an actor is thrown on a transparent screen it is invisible, but by gradually decreasing the light the spectral appearance will be as gradually developed until apparently it becomes a firm solid figure in all its proper costume, and acting in perfect conformity to its designed character.

The arrangement of the apparatus will be understood by reference to Figs. 101-104, in which--

Fig. 101 is an external perspective view, Fig. 102 a vertical section, Fig. 103 a top, or bird’s-eye view, and Fig. 104 a plan. A, B, C, D, E is a box, closed on all sides, but provided at D with a door F, and on the other side with another door G, both hinged to the back A, D. H, I, J are flapped openings on the top of the box; K, K a partition dividing the interior of the box, made of a good, clear, and even surface of thin patent plate-glass, kept in its place within two side grooves; L, M, two separate chambers or compartments produced by K, K, the transparent mirror; N, a ceiling or screen over the compartment L, to exclude any object therein from the direct view of the spectator, as shown by the dotted line, a, b.

If two figures be now introduced, one Y, the other Z, and the eye of the spectator be fixed at A, he will observe two images, one the real figure Z, the other Y’, the mere reflection of Y. By this arrangement it is evident that the plain, unsilvered glass, thus viewed at an angle of about 45° has all the properties of a mirror, but owing to its transparency two figures are seen, possessing little or no distinguishable difference between them. Of course a person placed at Z sees only the figure Y, but, as a piece of acting may, under proper arrangements of a suitable stage, approach the situation apparently occupied by Y’, and thus indicate to a spectator placed at A any pre-arranged dramatic scene requiring Z to be in correspondence with the visionary figure Y’.

In using the apparatus the flap H must be open, but I may be shut, being mostly useful to get admission for inserting or withdrawing the screen or the figures; the flap J may be closed or opened to regulate the admission or exclusion of light. The doors F, G may both be wide open, though one is generally sufficient, provided it is turned as direct as possible to the light. A mirror placed at an angle close to the opening F or G, will assist the illusion by illuminating the figure Y, thus heightening the effect of the reflection Y’.

If two geometrically proportionate figures, as spheres, cubes, or the like, be placed in the situations Y, Y’, then the image at Y’ will be a vision and a substance combined, as will at once appear by slightly moving the substantial body in either compartment L or M. Let the duplicate figure be a box, and then the spectator might observe the apparent anomaly of the same box being opened and a substance taken from it and replaced either by a substantial or visionary actor. When the compartment M is lighted up no vision appears, but the light being made gradually to fade and disappear, the vision would seem lifelike, as at first. As it is evident that the right hand of the vision is the left hand of the actor in the compartment L, all his acts requiring the right would have to be performed with the left hand, to appear natural to the spectator. It is also requisite for insuring a good effect, that no solid figure in the compartment M shall come before or behind the visionary image, as its transparency would at once become evident; but if anything of the kind is desired, then the background, figure, or object, should be placed behind the actor Y, and become with him also visionary; in this way a white screen placed behind the actor Y will allow his shadow to appear on it and give great force and solidity to his reflected figure or vision at Y’.

A few examples will better illustrate than any elaborate description, the singular effects that may, in different ways, be adopted for realising spectral dramas.

1.--DICKENS’S HAUNTED MAN.

A student is seen sitting at a table spread over with books, papers, and instruments. After a while he rises and walks about the chamber. In this there is nothing remarkable. But the audience is perplexed by a different circumstance: they not only see a man rise from his seat and see him walking about, but they also see that he still sits immovably in his chair--so that evidently there are two persons instead of one, for, although alike in dress, stature, and person, their actions are different. They cross and recross; they alternately take the same seat; while one reads the other is perhaps walking; and yet they appear very sullen and sulky, for they take no notice of each other, until one, after pushing down a pile of books, passes off by walking through the furniture and walls.

The art in this arrangement is to have two actors sufficiently alike in person, similarly dressed, and placed so that the phantom figure sits so exactly like the living figure as to match into it. It consists in having two actors, two chairs, and two tables exactly matching each other. On the acting stage, the actor, table, and chair have each their duplicate; so that, if they were pulled a little to one side, the audience would see two actors, two tables, and two chairs. But such an exhibition would be a defect, as the table and chair are mere guides for the spectre actor: if there were no chair he could not sit, and if no table he could not appear as leaning upon one, or seem to do so.

In this and other pieces of a like nature, it is presumed that the parts are not performed in dumb show, but that an able speaker either explains and gives the dialogue, or that concealed actors address the audience, timing their speech to the action before them.

2.--THE RETURNED MARINER.

A naval officer or other seafaring character, belonging to some particular vessel reported to have been wrecked, is seen in a chamber, into which his wife or sister, &c., on entering rushes forward to embrace him, but, clasping nothing, immediately falls down in a swoon.

3.--THE CALIFORNIAN GAMBLERS, OR ROBBERS.

Two men, dressed almost like brigands, engage to play some game with cards or dice. They sit one on each side of a table, on which they place their revolvers. After a short play they dispute and wrangle, during which, one seizing his pistol discharges it at the other. He is horror-stricken by the bullet being returned to him, and his playmate passing away by neither window nor door.

4.--THE MISER AND MONEY-LENDER.

He is an aged man, counting his money, and writing up his unjust gains. His room is furnished with bookshelves and cabinets. With a small taper before him, he is absorbed in monetary calculations. Presently a careworn female enters. He shudders--with cold. She opens a cabinet, takes out a long roll of parchment, replaces it, and closes the door again--not quietly, but with a clap like thunder. The miser is colder than ever--shivers more and more, and rises to look into his cabinet, from which he apparently takes the same roll, replaces it, and returns to his seat, followed by the reappearing phantom, which again rapidly disappears.

This requires a duplicate cabinet, parchment, &c.

5.--A STRANGE CHRISTMAS-BOX.

A porter enters the sitting-room of a bachelor while at breakfast. He lays down a deal box, is paid for it, and retires. It is a present--and after being turned over and over, hammered a good deal to burst it open, and seemingly as hard to open as an oyster would be with a pair of scissors; the cord off, the nails out, and all ready for inspection, the bachelor is suddenly called to any little attention, as the over-boiling of his kettle. He has but turned his back a moment, and behold--a cupid sits on his box! On his approach it walks round to his breakfast table. He removes the box lid and finds it crammed full of old clothes returned to him from his last residence. He is very angry, takes a seat, and is rather startled to see the box lid open, cupid get into it, and at the risk of the pretty boy being smothered, down goes the lid again. He reopens the box, taking from it cloaks, coats, boots, pipes, &c. But, where is cupid?

The box has its duplicate, and the appointed place marked out for each. The box seen by the spectators, however tossed and carelessly used, is very carefully placed at last in one precise spot, where it matches an opposite empty box, large enough for a child trained to perform the part. The lid supposed to open does not open, but by rapid action the eye is so easily deceived as not to observe the duplicate lid.

6.--THE DUEL.

It is to be fought with swords. After various passes, one is stabbed, but instead of falling, he either holds his sword behind him, as if in support, or elevates it, as if appealing to the justice of his cause; but in an instant, to the horror of his affrighted antagonist, he rushes on him with a blazing sword.

The sword is a suitable flat perforated gas tube, with a vulcanised gas tube attached to the handle. A small gas jet above, or an assistant below, enables the actor instantly to produce the desired result.

This example is curious, as showing with what nicety the required effect can be obtained, so as actually to bring the two blades opposite and crossing each other, when the space intervening may be 20 feet or more. It is easily done by stretching a cord or wire, or having movable metal or wood rods held upright by a solid base, placed equidistant on both stages; for it can readily be ascertained where to place them, so that a sword blade crossing a wire on one side is absolutely seen crossing the same on the other side.

7.--THE MILLINER BEWITCHED.

A dressmaker and assistants are in a work-room containing a number of empty props, each with a kind of wire-shaped body for displaying dresses upon. She scarcely turns round to her work before every pole has upon it white, black, red, and other dresses, to her evident consternation. Calling in a friend, they are again empty; so, settling down, she is once more terrified by a total change of millinery in cloaks, shawls, bonnets, &c. All this is brought about by employing corresponding wired props.

8.--THE GIPSY’S PROMISE.

A plain country servant-girl in a white under-dress stands at her glass, and, having had her fortune told, is ardently wishing to be a fine lady. As she retires from the glass in her mistress’s room, she is all amazement to find herself suddenly transformed to a princess. She is attired in a splendid pink or other silk dress, and wears a turban with ostrich feathers; but before she can show herself off to her friends the whole proves a vision!

The arrangement is like the former, only requiring more care and management.

9.--A HAND SEEN WRITING.

The spectre hand may actually write or gradually withdraw a slide over the letters. Either way is very surprising. The actor is behind a black curtain, his hand only seen by reflection. There are corresponding boards, that on the acting stage being black without any writing. If the board has a piece inserted in it like a valve, working on centres, the written words or name can thereby be turned out of sight with sufficient rapidity.

10.--THE OTRANTO PICTURE, OR LIVING PORTRAIT.

A scene from the “Castle of Otranto” may be imitated, representing the full-length figure in a painting stepping from the canvas into the picture gallery.

The picture and frame are a phantasm; the figure being represented by a living actor, or vice versâ. He walks from the frame to the floor; and on returning reassumes the still attitude of painted portraiture.

11.--WONDERFUL JUGGLERS.

No end of scenes might be brought out under this title, by employing very little and exceedingly simple mechanical appliances; as,--Swallowing any length of rope, chain, or other material. To be effected by passing a long endless band of the same over pulleys on the real stage, so as to appear entering the mouth of a visionary actor, keeping his head fixed and mouth wide open at one fixed point.

Strong and weak bandboxes--on which an actor is seen standing, but which when another actor attempts he falls through, crushing the whole to the floor. The first actor was a mere spectre, standing on strong duplicate boxes, which being removed, the other actor has nothing but the actual weak bandboxes to sustain his weight, which he therefore crushes flat with the floor.

The handing of flowers, miniatures, letters, or any article, by the spectre to the real actor, is so easy as scarcely to require explanation. There must be two of any article to be so used, one behind a small black screen on the acting stage, and the duplicate before a like screen on the other stage. While the actor appears holding the phantom letter, he in reality has taken hold of its duplicate behind the screen, only producing it the instant the other (or first seen letter) vanishes.

12.--THE WIZARD’S INCANTATION.

An aged wizard in a den-like habitation, standing within the magic circle, and with a boiling caldron before him, attended by certain spirit-seekers, is endeavouring to raise the spectre of some departed relative. In due form the phantom does appear amidst the vapours of the caldron.

The caldron has its duplicate, and is in fact the entrance for a trap door on the opposite stage, through which an actor is mechanically raised, appearing to the audience as the spectre, for he would be seen gradually fading away, first becoming transparent and next slowly invisible.

13.--THE GREENROOM RIOT.

A male and female actor are seen vigorously throwing at each other the masks, dresses, boxes, and other furniture of the greenroom, with the absurd effect of never being once incommoded by the hats, cloaks, coats, and dresses littered about.

Of course each is throwing at nothing, and the audience is amused by the mixture of the real and the reflected actions.

14.--A SPIRIT-RAPPING SÉANCE.

A company of this sect being assembled, rapping is heard, hands and heads seen, flowers distributed, and a spirit dimly rises, but just as the circle is about to depart the table with its books, lights, &c., turns rapidly round to their great delight.

The table is visionary, and suspended for the purpose.

15.--WILL-O’-THE-WISP.

This ignis fatuus may be represented by a young slender actress in a white gauze dress, holding in her hand a small neatly-made paper lantern. A misguided traveller is seen groping his way along a treacherous heath to trace the whereabouts of the fascinating vision, which at last vanishes, all but the dimly lighted lantern, which last of all dies out, and the actor appears emerging from a quagmire.

The small lighted lantern is seen longest, owing to its own illumination, while its smallness allows its being easily extinguished.

16.--SPECTRE WORKMAN.

Two men appear to be working a pump, one on each side, like some ships’ pumps, or fire-engines, but presently quarrel and fight. The mechanism is connected with an underground shaft, so that opposite actors cannot fail to rise and fall simultaneously in the requisite motions; and all the rest is a mere piece of acting.

17.--THE DRUNKARD’S DREAM.

A drunkard is supposed to have ruined himself and family, and hastened the death of his wife and children for want of proper sustenance. He is seen lying on a couch, surrounded by visions of his deceased partner and children. He wakes disturbed as they disappear. Again retiring to rest they surround him once more, each bringing him large goblets of his loved beverage, which he attempts to seize, falls on the floor, and awakens in a state of violent horror and passion.

18.--CLOWN AND FAIRIES.

A tree is seen rising from a green and flowery mound, on which sits a country clown half asleep, with his basket, bottle, and broken victuals before him. Presently a dozen or more fairies forming a ring dance around the tree, to the great delight of the rustic, who, rubbing his eyes, attempts to join the merry dancers, who as speedily flash out of sight.

The mound and trunk of the tree have their duplicate, otherwise the dancers would not be hid in passing behind it, and would therefore appear shadowy and unnatural.

19.--THE BLACK GHOST.

This effect is produced by the actor being first dressed in as white a dress as possible, and then covered with a cowl and flowing black gown; so that sometimes only the head is seen, at others only the hand or hands, and occasionally only a foot, or both feet. Or he may be dressed as usual, in black velvet, wearing a black mask, becoming observable only whenever he passes before a white screen.

20.--THE SPECTRE DOG.

A well-trained Newfoundland or other dog may appear to cross the stage as if passing through the furniture, and while jumping towards his master behind a screen, may appear by reflection as though attacking the real actor on the stage.

21.--THE HAUNTED HUT, OR WITCH’S LAUNDRY.

The witch, appropriately dressed, in a low cottage chamber, may be seen with some fantastically dressed young female preparing to wash clothes. They arrange a large tub, fill it with buckets of hot water (judging from the white vapour), and put in quantities of linen. Each takes a turn at washing, raising their work into the air, in the operation. But presently the girl retires, and on returning, is seen taking quantities of all kinds of boots, shoes, hats, cats, dogs, and children out of the washing tub, finishing by throwing the wet linen into the witch’s face, who becomes excessively aggravated.

This pantomime may be carried to any length. It is effected by commencing with two real actors on the stage, and then one of them leaving to commence a series of phantom actions, the audience never suspecting so odd a change.

22.--TEMPTATIONS OF ST. ANTHONY.

St. Anthony may be seen in his cell surrounded by all manner of imps. By having a duplicate seat, a number of youthful actors in pantomime masks and dresses can easily play the phantom part, climbing the arms and back of the chair, and gambolling at its feet, or upon and around a duplicate stand or table.

23.--METAMORPHOSES.

These may be carried to a great extent; nothing that poets have imagined appearing too difficult, not even the change of the human form to the trunks of trees.

An actress, dressed in a brown or green dress, on taking a certain assigned place and position, with upraised arms and outstretched fingers, would appear gradually to become like the young oak or elm, with but slight indications indeed of humanity, until disenchanted.

Here the only phantom would be that of the trunk and branches of a tree, either natural or artificially arranged to correspond with the body and upraised arms and fingers of the actress.

Changes from age to youth, male to female, friend to foe, and so on, may be achieved by the phantom actor stepping on a small turning portion of the stage, like a double sentry box, of which one half turn does the magic business, being occupied by two actors.

24.--TRIAL BY FIRE.

Men in Gothic costume may be seen at an altar, on which wood is burning. The accused has to test his innocence by a fiery ordeal; for which purpose the priest advances, declares the crimes, and promises clearance from guilt should the accused come off scatheless. He is seen as if washing his hands in the blaze, and burning drops falling from his clasped hands.

The duplicate altar has upon it a metal dish of inflamed alcohol, with a sponge dipped in it, which at the moment of clasping the hands, is raised and pressed by iron tongs, from which the dropping spirits take fire.

25.--ANY LEGENDARY SAINT’S MARTYRDOM.

Anything of this kind would be too terrible for the stage, but the principle on which it is conducted may be applied in different ways, this being but one out of many striking examples.

The stake and faggots are in duplicate. The duplicate stake and faggots are employed alone for arranging among them gas pipes, and in suitable metal dishes, either spirits, or thin paper, or both, to produce varieties of fiery effect. On the acting stage the martyr would appear surrounded by the terrors of the reality of such a frightful doom.

26.--EXECUTIONS BY AXE OR GUILLOTINE.

The descent of the instrument of execution is followed by the rising up or falling down of a black screen, effectively to hide the head, of which there must be a duplicate in waxwork. The executioner only is a real actor, and he only has access to the head. When his axe falls, all the rest takes place on the phantom stage; therefore the axe literally descends upon and adheres to the very block on which the audience saw the culprit place his neck.

Such an exhibition would be anything but desirable; at the same time the modus operandi is capable of happier applications, and therefore is only introduced on account of its impressive character, the Author having no desire to encourage the too prevalent vitiated taste for horrors.

27.--THE NIGHTMARE.

Some disturbance has caused a nervous gentleman to dress in a hurry in his night-cap, morning gown, and red slippers. With a blunderbuss under one arm and a night candle in one hand, he proceeds with a horse pistol in the other to look warily about, when suddenly appears before him an old grey mare eating hay--the unconscious intruder on his peace and quiet.

The mare in this instance is the only spectre, and the whole scene is due to a well-known engraving of such a subject.

28.--THE DOUBTFUL VISITOR.

A lady is informed that a strange lady has called upon her. They meet in the drawing-room, courtesy to each other, and finally take their seats on a couch. Soon afterwards they rise, but the stranger rudely drops her cloak, parasol, reticule, gloves, veil, &c., and runs off. The lady in astonishment attempts taking up the cloak and other things, which to her infinite terror seem to be swallowed up by the floor, so she in her turn makes her escape.

29.--A PANTOMIME.

Supposing the stage to appear as if supplied with real scenery, which should only after all be phantasms, it is clear that the feats of harlequins would be infinitely more surprising than with interposed wood and canvas. Such a scene as jumping through the mouth of a large mask could in no other way be represented. Fire may be held to the person without danger, outvieing the red-painted poker so amusing to youth in all such wild gambolling scenes. The kicks and cuffs that might be bestowed on a spectre actor, actress, horse, or dog, without disturbing the gravity or person on whom bestowed, is of itself sufficiently ludicrous. In fairy and goblin scenes the rapid appearance and disappearance of such visitors form an essential part in their introduction, and when they are grotesque, their phantom-like character would encircle them with all the sparkling attributes of a lively jest.

30.--GHOST OF CHINA.

Among other parts of any suitable scene, large china jars, dishes, jugs, plates, or other earthenware and glass, may appear so placed that on the actor falling on the floor the audience shall hear the crash of china and glass, and see the whole fall upon him, yet shall he rise unhurt, as though nothing had happened.

This is obtained by means of communicating wires or cords between the two stages, so that the one cannot fail to act in concert with the other.

31.--PILGRIM AND SAINT.

The worthy saint is seen with outstretched sandalled foot, and a pilgrim with pointed iron-shod staff standing beside him. Wishing to show the holy man some relics he strikes his staff into the ground to release his hand in the act of opening out his treasure. But, behold! he has pinned the saint’s foot to the earth with his pilgrim’s staff.

32.--THE SPECTRE’S KISS.

Two young ladies enter a drawing-room from opposite ends, courtesy and dance; when their performance is over they approach and kiss each other, and then seem to be attempting to shake hands, but in vain, on which one falls down while the other slowly and almost imperceptibly vanishes.

In many other devices, as in this, the same means for effecting a near approach may be resorted to, nothing more being required than a piece of glass supported on a black pole, which, as ascertained beforehand, exactly distances the two heads, the lips approaching the glass on an opposite side, in opposite directions, far apart.

It must not be overlooked that these various scenes require different modes of action, a leading one being the peculiar property that this phantasmagoria affords of uniting as one body a phantom with a substance, whether alike or unlike in form and colour. This is a feature so important that it will not be out of place here to dwell upon it more at large, to impress so important a property on the attention of all who may desire an intimate acquaintance with the subject.

As a preliminary step, let a few chromotographic experiments be made. Set a yellow cube before the mirror and a blue one behind it, in a model apparatus, employing the sun’s light. Blue and yellow it might be supposed would give a cube having a green tint, instead of which it will be snow white. Again, for blue, substitute a deep pink; and for yellow white, when the pink will disappear all but the faintest possible tinge--the shadow or phantom appearing to overwhelm the coloured substance. These effects are so surprising, simple as they appear, that, unless tried and seen, description alone must fail to convince any one of the full force of the results stated.

Acting on this property of matching one body into another, so as to all appearance to absorb it into itself, many curious dramatic effects may be produced, whether the subjects be animate or inanimate. And this mode of procedure is always in demand where the phantom is required to touch, handle, and repeat the actions of an ordinary actor.

On this peculiarity of matching one body into another so exactly depends the striking character of “The Haunted Man,” where the actor himself is so placed; so likewise “The Miser,” with several others, where furniture, chairs, or any other things or vessels require to be so conjoined. In “The Bachelor,” the article used is a box, which is carried and moved about, but ultimately fixed in a pre-arranged spot. It would not be easy to perform such parts with animals or with children, as they would not be likely to keep sufficiently quiet and immovable. Whenever the actors on the opposite stages have to play similar parts, then such duplicates of solid and shadow or reflection must always be employed. Two couches are required to make it appear that two persons are sitting on one couch, although in reality each couch has only one occupant; but in the acting the only spectre that appears is the actor, while the spectral couch is absorbed into and hid by the real couch. So likewise in sitting to a table--two tables and two persons must act the part, and the result that follows is the same as before; but if only one of these actors places anything on the table, then the opposite actor cannot touch it, unless its duplicate is already placed there for the purpose, behind a black screen, by which means flowers, letters, books, &c., may appear to pass from hand to hand.

The necessity of corresponding stops and marks on the two stages is shown in “The Duel.” A mark on the floor directs where to place the feet; slender black rods, set in a weighted foot, mark places for the body, feet, or hands; and suspended wires or cords answer the same purpose. But such marks may be, as in the case of “The Milliner,” some part of the furnishing of the apartment, as there we see taking place with mere clothes’ props; or, indeed, as in “The Gipsy’s Promise,” the very person of the actor.

As the entire person is, sometimes, not required to be seen, it is always easy to exclude any portion by employing a black dress, screen, or curtain, as in “A Hand seen Writing.”

A curious result is obtained by appearing to give animation to the inanimate. This may be seen in “The Otranto Picture,” where the actor standing within a framed recess has all the appearance of a painted full-length portrait, the stepping of which from the canvas realises a romantic story of “The Castle of Otranto.”

The absence of all machinery or trap-doors to get rid of “The Ghost” can be rendered strikingly obvious in two ways: first, by the very gradual dissolving of the vision until it becomes thoroughly transparent; or, secondly, by placing in the hand some very bright object, either a dagger, sword, censor, or small enclosed light. By using a night light, having a paper or ground-glass shade, the same will appear as though floating in the air after entirely losing sight of every other spectral object.

Yet trap-doors and machinery may become accessories in many scenes. “The Wizard’s Incantation” requires a duplicate caldron, which on the spectre stage is merely an upright circular frame around a trap-door, through which the spectre actor has to be raised to be presented to the audience by reflection. So also in “The Spectre Workman,” simultaneous action is produced by an underground shaft, which in some cases may be otherwise produced; even bell-wires, cords, and the like serving for many purposes, as illustrated in “The Ghost of China.”

The method of double acting is shown in “The Witch’s Laundry,” producing some strangely startling results. One or both of two actors may, by changing to the opposite stage, become alternately spectral or solid. What they are seen acting as real actors becomes wildly ridiculous when converted into spectral acts. If after two actors going through performances decidedly requiring mutual intercourse, one adroitly passes to the spectral stage, then his friend, or his adversary, cannot any longer succeed in friendly intercourse, or commit any fatal act by means of sword or pistol.

Advantage may be taken in many scenes of the marvellous property of the phantom to overpower and conceal the colour and features of a corresponding substance. In “Metamorphoses,” this is made evident by the facility shown in causing the human figure to take the form of a branching tree, which the wizard can readily disenchant, reproducing a living actor or actress. By such means the classic stories of Ovid, or the sprightly and wonderful creations of the Arabian Nights, may be set before an admiring audience; and when the changes cannot be exactly thus realised, the mechanical arrangements for turning one actor from and another actor into view, aided by screens, is so exceedingly simple as to render minute details superfluous. Actors may appear to dress and change with the rapidity of lightning; age may become youth, and vice versâ; and even, a gorilla might step forth an altered creature to trip the “light fantastic toe!”

In some scenes the peculiarity may consist in the spectre passing off undiscovered, and only be traced by its phantom accompaniments, as in “The Doubtful Visitor,” who sitting on the same couch with a lady, departs without any other strangeness of action than leaving behind some portions of her phantom dress.

In pantomime and legerdemain the Optical Illusions eclipse every extravaganza hitherto conceived for making the “eyes the fools o’ the other senses.” And what is still more remarkable, this portion of the subject is so exceedingly simple to perform that, although short, yet sufficient directions will be found in the description of scenes under the respective titles of “Pantomime” and “Jugglers.”

These few observations appeared requisite to impress on the general reader that each of the preceding scenes involves some peculiarity in arrangement to produce the effect described, and that, therefore, they are not all on one model. Some show the actors apart, some together, and afterwards separate; some with and some without machinery of any kind; some with phantom actors, others with only phantom dresses or furniture; and others again employing animals, as the horse, dog, &c.

The mechanical portion of the arrangements are too various to enter upon in minute description, but they are generally of such a nature as any practical workman employed on theatrical machinery will readily understand. The modes of arranging the transparent mirror are as numerous as in the employment of ordinary mirrors. It may be used framed, or for some purposes without any frame whatever; it may be suspended and slide on framework placed above, by means of pulleys, thus leaving the stage floor free from any grooving or any raised portion. Or, it may be made to swing like a hinged door, whether hinged at top, bottom, or either side. Or, it may turn on centres, so as to be half in and half out, when turned to right angles with its common position, being thus capable of regulation to any desired angle. It is also obvious that the position of the mirror necessitates a corresponding change in the placing of the spectre stage, so that the one shall always be opposite the other. As it is not requisite to cover the entire front of the stage with one or more mirrors, their use may often be artistically concealed by pillars, trees, or similar devices, in which case the spectral effects will be limited to such mirrored portions. When out of use, these large mirrors can be made to slide, sink, or rise, as done with the scenes in general use.

=Games.=--Space being limited, choice is made here of a few games not generally known.

Bézique (Polish).--Polish bézique, sometimes called open bézique, or Fildinski, is played by 2 persons in the same way as ordinary bézique, except in the following particulars. The tricks are not left on the table at Polish bézique, but are thus disposed of: 7’s, 8’s, 9’s, and 10’s (except the 10’s of trumps) are turned face down on the table as soon as a trick containing any of them is completed. These cards must not be looked at again during the hand. Other cards, which are cards that can be used in declaring, are taken by the winner of the trick, and placed by him face up on the table close in front of himself, in rows, consisting of aces, kings, queens, and knaves, and of the 10’s of trumps. At the end of the hand all cards that can be used in declaring are thus exposed or open on the table. Having been once played, they can only be used in declaring, and cannot be played a second time. Whether declared or not, they remain open during the hand and the play of the last 8 tricks.

Declarations can only be made from open cards, and never from cards held in the player’s hand. This is the fundamental difference between Polish and ordinary bézique. As soon as a trick is won containing a card or cards that can be used in declaring, those cards are transferred to the open cards (if any) already in possession of the winner of the trick, and as soon as a card is won that completes a scoring combination, the declaration is made and the score marked.

For example. A. has 3 open queens, and he wins a trick containing a queen. Before drawing again, he places the fourth queen in the row which contains the other 3 queens, and scores 60 for queens.

The 7 of trumps can be exchanged for the turn up when a trick is won with it, but not when a trick is won with another card by a player who holds the 7 in his hand. Similarly the 7, if not exchanged, can be declared when a trick is won with it. If the 7 of trumps is played, and is won with a higher trump, the winner of the trick declares or exchanges the 7. The principle is the same throughout, viz. that declarations are made only out of cards won, and by the winner of them.

At Polish bézique compound declarations are allowed, i.e. all the scores that can be made when cards are added to open cards are made at once, and the same card may be declared more than once (in combinations of a different class), without waiting to win another trick. The ordinary rule that a card once declared cannot be again declared in combinations of the same class, e.g. a king once married cannot be married again; a fifth ace added to 4 aces already declared does not entitle to reckon aces over again.

As examples of compound declarations take the following: A. wins the queen of faintest possible tinge--the shadow or phantom appearing to overwhelm the coloured trumps with the king. He has in his open cards 3 kings, 4 queens, and the ace, 10, knave of trumps. He declares royal marriage (40), 4 kings (80), but not 4 queens, as he cannot again reckon any of the 4 queens already declared in that class of combination, and sequence (250), in all 370.

Again, the ace of spades is turned up, and the ace of hearts is led. The second player wins the ace of hearts with the 7 of trumps, and exchanges the 7 for the turn up. He scores 10 for the exchange, and 10 for each of the aces he adds to his open cards--in all 30. If at the same time he were in possession of 2 other open aces, he would score 100 more for 4 aces.

At Polish bézique aces and 10’s must be declared as soon as the trick is won, and not at the end of the hand, a mode of scoring preferred by some players at ordinary bézique.

In the play of the hand it is not compulsory to follow suit nor to win the trick, and a player may win the trick by trumping notwithstanding that he holds a card of the suit led. But in the last 8 tricks suit must be followed if the second player has one of the suit led. The trick in the last 8 tricks must also be won by the second player if he has a higher card of the suit than the one led. If he has none of the suit led, and has a trump, he must win the card led by trumping.

Declarations do not cease at Polish bézique when playing the last 8 tricks. They are made just as in the early part of the hand after winning a trick and before leading again.

Polish bézique is generally played 2000 up, as the average scores are considerably higher than at ordinary bézique.

Block. Implements.--A board as in Fig. 105, the figures not being necessary, except when the game is played by correspondence--they are placed here to simplify the examples--16 pegs, and 2 King pegs; 12 pegs and the King pegs being required for play, the 4 remaining pegs are a reserve force of 2 for each player.

Play.--Divide the pegs, one player taking the White, the other the Black. The first to play is decided by lot. Each player then places a peg into one of the holes in turn, occupying those which he may consider the most advantageous, until the 12 pegs and the 2 King pegs have been placed. Then each moves one of his pegs in turn, but only one hole at a time, and as the lines run.

Points of the Game.--To Block, to Force, and to Make a Line.

(a) To block is to get a peg on each side of one of your adversary’s: this, if an ordinary peg, is its capture, and it is immediately removed off the board.

Example.--Black having a peg in 1, and White playing a peg in 2, Black captures that peg by playing a peg in 3; but White having a peg in 4 can capture Black’s peg in 3 by playing another peg in 2; or White having pegs in 1, 10, and 24, and Black a peg in 9 could block Black’s peg by playing peg 24 either into 17 or 16.

But to block the King peg, the other holes surrounding him must be filled, though it is of no consequence by whose pegs. To block the King peg is game. His only means of escape is by immediately capturing one of the pegs blocking; if he cannot do this, and cannot move, the game is over.

Example.--Black’s King peg being in 3, and White having a peg in 4, is not blocked by White placing a peg in 2, because the hole 11 is unoccupied. Or supposing Black to occupy 11 (King peg), and 3, and White 2, 12 and 19, the game would be lost to Black by White playing 2 to 10, which blocks the King; but if Black had a peg in 17, 16 or 1 to immediately play into 9 he would capture 10, which is one of the blocking pegs, and so liberate the King peg. The other blocking peg is 12. Capturing 19 would be of no avail, neither would moving his own peg 3.

(b) To force is to get 2 pegs on a line with one of your adversary’s, in which case you force him to move that peg to the first vacant hole on its square, in whichever direction it may occur, and in the event of there not being one vacant on its square, to whichever square has the nearest.

Example.--Black, occupying hole 1, could force White from hole 3 by placing a peg in hole 2 in which case White’s peg 3 would have to move to 4; or by occupying holes 11 and 19, when White would have 2 holes at equal distance--4 and 2; and could move into either unless the forcer gave the preference.

If the King peg be forced, a peg is thereby gained from the reserve which is placed in the hole vacated by the King.

(c) To make a line is to get 3 of your pegs on one line in any way but diagonally, in which case the third or last peg moved to make the line can be at once removed to any vacant hole on the board.

Example.--By occupying holes 1 2 3, 2 10 18, 9 10 11; in fact any way but from corner to corner as 1 9 17 or 19 11 3.

If your adversary insists upon maintaining a peg in a hole to your great disadvantage, play your pegs so as to force him from it, having first prepared a hole for him to move into. That is to say, be careful that the hole you force him into does not attack your position, as--Black’s pegs in 2, 4, and 7; White’s pegs in 1 and 6; now Black, moving peg 4 to 3, forces White’s peg 1, which is compelled to move to hole 8, and so captures Black’s peg 7. On the contrary, if Black occupied holes 2, 6, 7, 9, 11, and White holes 1, 4, 5, by Black playing peg 11 into 3, White’s peg 1 is forced into 8, and it being Black’s next move, he occupies hole 1 with his 9 peg, or 2 peg, and so captures the peg he forced. The great point is to place the pegs in a good position at the commencement of the game.

Rules.--1. Each player places one peg in turn, and when all are placed, moves in the same manner, but only as the lines run, and one hole at a time.

2. A force made during the placing of the pegs does not interfere with that player’s turn; that is to say, if White in playing the pegs occupies hole 1, and Black hole 3, Black would be forced by White taking hole 2 and would have to move, but would immediately afterwards place his peg as was his turn.

3. The placing of a peg gained from the reserve into the hole vacated by King peg does not count as a move, consequently any advantage so gained is nil.

4. The playing a peg when forced counts the same as its move, and reaps any advantage gained by occupying the hole it is forced into.

5. A forced peg, having the preference of 2 holes to move into, can be compelled by the forcer to occupy either.

6. A made block or made force is of no advantage; that is to say, if Black occupied holes 1 and 3, White could put a peg in hole 2 without being captured; or Black possessing holes 1 and 2, White could place a peg in 3 without being forced. The same applies to a peg when forced into such a position.

7. Any advantage gained in a move, and not noticed before the next move, cannot be counted.

8. A person drawing a peg is compelled to move it, and on the event of its being placed in a hole, must there leave it.

9. A peg played to force or block cannot claim the advantage of a line if it make one by so playing, for instance, Black in 1, 6, 8, and 23, a white peg being in 15; Black by playing 6 to 7 can either take it as a line or block 15, but not both. Neither can 2 pegs be forced or blocked in the one move. The player has the preference in each case. A peg can, however, block and force in the one move.

Example.--White occupying holes 9 and 8, and Black holes 15 and 24, Black by getting a peg into 16 forces both 8 and 9; he therefore compels his adversary to move whichever is most to the forcer’s advantage. Or white in 10, 19, 13, with Black in 9 and 12, captures peg 12, and forces peg 9, by moving from 19 to 11.

10. A player, whose turn it is to move, having his pegs so surrounded that he cannot--draws the game.

11. A player having the whole of his pegs (9) on the board can gain no more by forcing the King.

12. A game being reduced to only 3 pegs on the board can be drawn, if not won in 20 moves. (H. E. Heather, Amateur Chess Magazine.)

Chancery.--This new round game at cards requires no tuition, and can be played by the smallest child, and by any number.

If the company does not exceed 5 or 6, one pack of cards is sufficient; if it does exceed that number, extra cards are preferable.

A pool is then subscribed, say 5 counters by each player; that is generally enough to keep it floating for some time, though should it run out another subscription is called for immediately.

The cards are then scattered in the centre of the table, with their faces downwards. Each player then draws one in turn, displaying it before him and calling what it is. Should it only be an ordinary card or picture drawn each time let the cards drawn lie in a heap before the player; should aces be drawn spread them conspicuously in front of the others.

The cards to score points are:

1. The majority in possession when all are drawn.

2. The majority of court cards.

3. Every ace.

4. Every ace to which you have also drawn the deuce of the same suit.

Should any player draw the deuce of the same suit as an ace drawn he calls the owner’s attention to the fact, who immediately places the ace with his other cards, it being “killed” and reduced in value. Should a deuce be drawn before the ace of its suit it must be replaced with the others again, and another card be taken, the cards being previously shuffled. A player drawing the deuce of the same suit as an ace in his possession places it upon the ace, and keeps them separate from the others, as they score the most points. If a card drawn pairs with the player on either side, the person drawing the pairing card has immediately to pass all his cards to the one so paired, and pay a forfeit of one point to the pool.

When all the cards have been taken the pool-master (it is best always to appoint one player to occupy this post, or confusion is apt to ensue) pays out the points scored as follows:

1. For the majority of cards, 1 point.

2. For each ace on which the deuce has not been drawn, 2 points.

3. For majority of pictures, 3 points.

4. For each ace on which the deuce has been drawn, 4 points.

The cards are then mixed for a fresh start, and the pool again subscribed if run low.

Laws.--1. Each player to take but one card, and in turn; departure from this rule a fine of one to the pool.

2. If a deuce is drawn before the ace, it is to be replaced; if drawn after the ace, and replaced in mistake, it cannot be recovered, provided the ace was conspicuously displayed; the player so doing loses his turn and pays one to the pool.

3. A player turning a card other than that he draws pays one to the pool.

4. A player pairing with the last card drawn by the person on either side of him passes all his cards to that player and pays one to the pool. Should it so happen that he pairs with both, the one on the left has the preference.

5. It is not necessary that a player should have any cards in his possession to be paired with; the last card he drew, whether he has lost it or not, is the one to count.

6. Any dispute to be settled by pool-master.

7. Pool-master to be chosen for each game if desired. (H. E. Heather).

Dominoes.--A set of dominoes usually consists of 28 oblong cards, each consisting of 2 squares united; no 2 pieces are alike, they being distinguished by pips. It is important for the learner to bear in mind that there are 7 dominoes of each number, and that each number is joined to one of each of the others. The calculations of the game are founded on these facts.

Dominoes are usually made with bone or ivory faces and ebony backs. They are shuffled, or “made,” as it is technically termed, by being turned downwards on the table, and mixed quickly by a light pressure and rapid movement with the hands.

On the Continent, where the game is usually played on a marble or hardwood table, the dominoes have frequently a projecting metal stud in the middle of the face; this enables them to be mixed with greater facility on smooth surfaces, but prevents their being effectually shuffled on one covered with a cloth, unless a large sheet of cardboard is interposed. Care should be taken that the back of the dominoes should not be stained or marked, as, if only one is thus capable of being distinguished, it lessens in the highest degree the interest of the game. They should be of good size, as small sets are very inconvenient to play with, and of sufficient thickness to stand firmly on their edges, with their faces turned towards the player and their backs towards his opponent.

As the game usually played is 100, a marker is convenient to score the successive additions made by each player. On the Continent very convenient markers are used; but there is a simple plan of making them extemporaneously with a visiting card. This is to be cut as shown in Fig. 106.

By turning back the nicks along the dotted lines the number marked on each is scored; a card so notched will score up to 99, and will answer for a large number of games before it becomes useless by the nicks breaking off.

The dominoes having been shuffled face downwards on the table, one of the two players pushes 2 towards the other, who selects one of the two, leaving the other for his opponent. Both are then turned up, and the player who has the highest number has the lead, or “pose,” as it is called. In England it is frequent for the holder of the 6-6 (double six) to pose first--a stupid plan, as it quite spoils the first hand, inasmuch as 6-6 may be a very bad domino to play from the dominoes held.

The 2 dominoes drawn and exposed are again mixed with the others, the non-leader mixing for them last. Each player then selects 7 dominoes; the leader plays one, placing it face upwards on the table, and the opponent matches it from his own hand, playing at either end as he thinks fit.

Thus, if the first player plays 4-5, the second may play either a 5 to his 5, or, should he think it more advantageous, a 4 to the 4, thus:

If a double is played first, which gives the second player only one number to play to, it is usual to place the double in a cross.

In either case the first player plays again, and so on alternately until one or other has played out, when he scores the pips on the domino or dominoes remaining in his opponent’s hand.

If one player cannot play at either end, he says “go,” when his opponent plays on until some number is posed to which he can play. If neither can play, both hands are shown, and the one that has the fewest pips wins the score, which should consist of the whole of the opponent’s pips as well as his own added together. After a score the dominoes are turned and mixed, the pose or lead being taken alternately.

Persons who know but little of the game think that the best play is at once to get rid of the heaviest dominoes, but this is not necessarily the case; but with a heavy hand, every care should be taken not to let the opponent close the game leaving you with a heavy score. In this most simple English game the aim of the player should be to make his long suit, and prevent his opponent playing.

Following are a few examples of hands played in the ordinary English game with 7 pieces. In this game the player sees his whole hand of seven at once, and he knows that his opponent has also seven, or one-third of the remainder; the other 14 dominoes are untouched, and he can make his calculations and play his game accordingly. In this game, each player plays alternately, until one or other has played all his dominoes, when he scores the number of pips left in his opponent’s hand. Should either be unable to play, the other continues until he brings a card to which his opponent can play. Should both players be unable to play, then the one who has the least number of pips scores, not only those in his opponent’s hand, but his own also. To give an example. Suppose 2 players, A. and B., playing the English game, and having drawn for pose, A. plays first from the following hand:--6-6, 5-2, 5-0, 4-3, 4-0, 2-2, 2-1.

An inexperienced player would probably play his 6-6, that being a heavy card, and in all probability he would lose the score if his opponent had 2 or 3 sixes in his hand.

The proper play would be the 2-2, as it gives B. only one number to play to, and if, as not unfrequently happens, B. has no twos, A. has the chance of a splendid game.

Let us take B.’s hand as follows:--6-4, 6-3, 6-1, 5-4, 5-1, 3-0, 1-1.

A. plays 2-2. As B. cannot play, A. plays again, selecting the card of which he has most (so as to lessen B.’s chance as much as possible), this would be the 2-5, as he has 2 fives in his hand and only a single one. If B. plays 5-1, which offers his best chance of success, A. will play 1-2, and the game will be shut up. On counting the pips, A. will be found to have 22 and B. 46. A. consequently scores 68 towards the game of 100.

If, on the contrary, A. plays the 6-6, he may lose, and he cannot possibly win as many as he could have done with the previous play.

If B. replies to 6-6 with 6-1, A. would then play 1-2, B. 6-4, A. 2-2, B. 4-5, A. would close the game by making 2-all, viz. 2 at both ends, by placing 5-2 to the 5 end, and his score would be 36, made up of B.’s 20 pips and A.’s own 16.

A hand with 3 or 4 of any one number is better than a hand with only 2 of each sort, even supposing the first to be much the heavier, as it gives a command of the game, and enables the holder to shut his adversary out and to play his own dominoes as he likes, closing the game if he thinks fit.

Thus take the following hands, A. to play first with the heavy pieces, viz.: 6-6, 6-4, 6-3, 6-1, 5-4, 5-2, 5-1, and B. to be his opponent with the light hand: 5-0, 4-1, 3-3, 3-1, 2-2, 2-1.

If A. commences with 6-6, B. must lose, provided A. plays with the most ordinary skill.

The principle of the game is to play so as to bring the numbers of which you hold most (and therefore in all probability your opponent least) at the ends; by this means you play out more dominoes than he does, and you often have the opportunity of closing the game. But this must be done with judgment, for it sometimes may happen that the player who shuts up the game loses, as his opponent may have a less number than he has, and win the score. It is this uncertainty which gives interest to the game, for to close the game and win when the numbers are nearly equal shows the skill and judgment of the player.

Mill.--This is a good evening game for boys. It somewhat resembles draughts, and is easily manufactured as follows: Take a sheet of stiff white cardboard, such as is sold for mounting water-colour drawings, &c., draw on it 3 oblong squares (Fig. 107) one within the other; the outside square, say 18 in. by 14 in., the second 14 in. by 10 in., and the third 10 in. by 6 in. Unite the 3 squares by drawing 4 opposite lines from the centre square to the outside square, so as to make 4 passages, enabling the players to move their men from one square to the other. Fig. 107 shows the board, with a game in progress.

In this game the black men are supposed to be winning. At the right hand black has a double mill, and a single mill at the top; white has a double mill also, but is afraid to open it, as black would instantly seize his man.

The lines forming each square should be ½ in. wide. The board can be made in a few minutes with the help of a flat rule with the inches marked on it. “Mill” is played by 2 people, each of whom has nine men; draught men will do. Having chosen who is to commence, begin by placing a man on any part of the board, either at the corner of a square or in the centre, of on one of the 4 lines. The men must not be placed in the intermediate spaces. Each line holds a mill, which consists of 3 men in a row, and the object of each player is to make a mill, and to prevent his adversary from making one. When a mill is made call out “mill,” and remove one of your opponent’s men, provided it does not form one of a mill, which cannot be broken as long as it remains closed; try, if possible, to get a double mill, that is, 5 men so placed that by moving one man either forwards or backwards you make a mill each time. If you can get 3 men on 3 corners of one square--which, if your opponent is a good player, he will prevent your doing--you are certain at all events of one mill, if not of a double one. When all the men are on the board you can move a man in any direction on the lines and up or down the cross lines into the other squares, but you must not cross the squares in any other way but by the passages; each passage will hold a mill. A move is from the corner of either square, on the line, to the centre, or back again, so on all round the squares if necessary--i.e. supposing you have only 3 men left, the rest having fallen to your opponent’s skill, and these 3 are in different parts of the board, you must move them till you have succeeded in joining them into a mill. When you have one or more mills, open either by moving a man forward (taking care that your opponent has not a mill ready to be closed, as he will then take your man and break your mill), and when you close it again remove one of your adversary’s men not forming part of a mill. When a mill is open it is of course in danger. The most amusing part of the game is when each has arrived at his last mill and is trying to destroy his opponent’s. The board may also be made of 2 very thin pieces of wood, joined by 2 hinges in the centre, so as to fold it up when not in use, painted white or black, and the squares and passages painted gold or scarlet.

Pachîsî.--This is a variety of the game of draughts as played by the natives of India, as good as, if not superior to, the English game. The freedom of moving in any direction, and the fact that it is not obligatory to accept a force, make the game one entirely of tactics, and are productive of many phases before the game is finished. The rules are few and simple. The name Pachîsî is derived from the Oriental expression for “25”--the number of posts in the square (Fig. 108): a are places for the men when off the board.

Pachîsî is played with a board as in Fig. 108, and 16 pieces on each side. The centre line of posts is left vacant. A piece may be moved in any direction along any line (and this includes advancing, retiring, and a lateral or diagonal move), but no farther than one post. Captures are made as in draughts, and are not limited in number, i.e. each piece has the power of a crowned piece in ordinary draughts. It is not obligatory to capture an adverse piece when it is possible to do so. The game is won precisely as in draughts, by capturing all the adverse pieces, or by the adversary being unable to move.

Poker.--Poker is a round game at cards, much played in America, but scarcely known in this country. Recently it has found favour here. The deal is determined by throwing a card to each player, the lowest having the first deal, and the deal afterwards proceeding to the left, as at whist. A pack of 52 cards is used. It is better not to play with more than 6 players.

The dealer, beginning with the person at his left, throws round 5 cards to each player, giving one card at a time. The dealer shuffles and makes up the pack himself, or it may be done by the player at his left, and the player at his right must cut.

To begin the pool, the player next to the dealer on his left must put up money, which is called an “ante,” and then in succession each player, passing round to the left, must, after looking at his hand, determine if he goes in or not; and each person deciding to play for the pool must put in twice the amount of the ante. Those who decline to play throw up their cards face downwards on the table, and for convenience in front of the next dealer.

When all who wish to play have gone in, the person putting up the ante can either give up all interest in the pool, thus forfeiting the ante which has been put up, or else can play like the others who have gone in, by “making good,” that is, putting up in addition to the ante as much more as will make him equal in stake to the rest.

If a number of players have gone in, it is best generally for the ante-man to make good and go in, even with a poor hand, because half his stake is already up, and he can therefore stay in for half as much as the others have had to put up, which is a percentage in favour of his taking the risk. This of course does not apply if any one has “raised,” that is, more than doubled the ante, before it comes around to the starting point.

Any one at the time of going in must put up as much as double the ante, and may put up as much more as he pleases, by way of “raising” the ante; in which case, every other player must put up as much as will make his stake equal to such increase, or else abandon what he has already put in.

Each player as he makes good, and equals the others who are in before him, can thus increase the ante if he chooses, compelling the others still to come up to that increase, or to abandon their share in the pool.

All “going in,” or “raising” of the pool, as well as all betting afterwards, must be in regular order, going round by the left; no one going in, making good, increasing the ante, or betting, except in turn. When all are in equally who intend to play, each player in turn will have the privilege of drawing; that is, of throwing away any number of his 5 cards, and drawing as many others, to try to better his hand. The cards thus thrown up must be placed face downwards on the table, and, for convenience, in front of or near the next dealer.

The dealer, passing around to the left, will ask each player in turn how many cards he will have, and deal him the number asked for, from the top of the pack, without their being seen. The dealer if he has gone in to play for the pool will, in like manner, help himself last.

The players must throw away their discarded cards before taking up, or looking at those they draw.

In the game every player is for himself and against all others, and to that end will not let any of his cards be seen, nor betray the value of his hand by drawing or playing out of his turn, or by change of countenance or any other sign. It is a great object to mystify your adversaries up to the “call” when hands have to be shown. To this end it is permitted to chaff or talk nonsense with a view of misleading your adversaries as to the value of your hand, but this must be without unreasonably delaying the game.

When the drawing is all complete, the betting goes around in order, like the drawing, to the left. The ante man is the first to bet, unless he has declined to play, and in that case the first to bet is the player nearest to the dealer on his left. But the player entitled to bet first may withhold his bet until the others have bet round to him, which is called “holding the age,” and this, being an advantage, should, as a general rule, be practised. Each better in turn must put into the pool a sum equal at least to the first bet made; but each may in turn increase the bet or raise it as it comes to him; in which case the bets, proceeding around in order, must be made by each player in his turn equal to the highest amount put in by any one, or else, failing to do that, the party who fails must go out of the play, forfeiting his interest in the pool.

When a player puts in only as much as has been put in by each player who has preceded him, that is called “seeing” the bet. When a player puts in that much, and raises it, that is called seeing the bet and “going better.”

When the bet goes around to the last better or player who remains in, if he does not wish to see and go better, he simply sees and “calls,” and then all playing must show their hands, and the highest hand wins the pool. When any one declines to see the bet, or the increase of bet which has been made, he “lays down” his hand, that is, throws it up with the cards, face downwards, on the table. If all the other players throw down their hands, the one who remains in to the last wins, and takes the pool without showing his hand.

To “bluff” is to take the risk of betting high enough on a poor hand or a worthless one to make all the other players lay down their hands without seeing or calling you.

When a hand is complete, so that the holder of it can play without drawing to better it, that is called a “pat” hand. A bold player will sometimes decline to draw any cards, and pretend to have a pat hand, and play it as such, when he has none.

A skilful player will watch and observe what each player draws, the expression of the face, the circumstances and manner of betting, and judge, or try to judge, of the nature of each hand opposed to him accordingly.

No one is bound to answer the question, how many cards he drew, except the dealer; and the dealer is not bound to tell after the betting has begun.

Drawing.--If the player determines to draw to a pair, he draws 3 cards.

If he draws to 2 pairs, he draws one card. If he holds 3 to begin with, he draws 2 cards, in order to have the best chance of making a full, inasmuch as, in playing, pairs are apt to run together. But, to deceive his adversaries and make them think he has nothing better than 2 pairs, a sharp player will often draw but one card to his 3’s.

It is advisable sometimes to keep an ace or other high card as an “outsider,” with a small pair, and draw but one card--thus taking the chance of matching the high cards and so getting a good 2 pairs, or something better possibly--while at the same time others may be deceived into believing that the player is drawing to 3’s.

When drawing to cards of the same suit to try to make a flush, or to cards of successive denominations to try to make a sequence, as many more cards are to be taken as will be needed to fill out the flush or the sequence. But it is seldom advisable to venture in to draw for either a flush or a sequence when more than one card is required to complete the hand.

When a player holds 4’s in his original hand it is as good as it can be, and yet it is best to throw away the outside card and draw one, because others may then think he is only drawing to 2 pairs, or for a flush or a sequence, and will not suspect the great value of the hand. When one is in (as he ought seldom to be) without even so much as a pair, his choice must be either to discard 4 cards, or 3 cards, and draw to the highest, or 2 highest in the hand, or throw away the whole hand and draw 5, or look content and serious, stand pat, and bet high!

The player determining to try this last alternative on a worthless hand had generally better begin by raising when he goes in, or else nobody will be likely to believe in his pretended strong hand.

Relative Value of Hands in their Order, beginning with the Best.--1. A Sequence Flush: Which is a sequence of 5 cards, and all of the same suit.

2. Fours: Which is 4 out of the 5 cards, of the same denomination.

3. A Full: Which is a hand consisting of 3 cards of the same denomination, and 2 of likewise equal denomination.

4. A Flush: Which is all 5 cards of the same suit.

5. A Sequence: Which is all 5 cards not of the same suit, but all in sequence. (In computing the value of a sequence an ace counts either as the highest or lowest card, that is, below a deuce or above a king.)

6. Threes: Which is 3 cards of the same denomination, but the other 2 of different denominations from each other.

7. Two Pairs.

8. One Pair.

9. Highest Card: When a hand has neither of the above, the count is by the cards of highest value or denomination. [Ace is highest.]

When parties opposed, each holds a pair, the highest pair wins, and the same when each party holds 3’s or 4’s.

When each party holds 2 pairs, the highest pair determines the relative value of the hands.

When each party holds a sequence, the hand commencing with the highest card in sequence wins; so also when two or more parties hold flushes against each other.

That full counts highest of which the 3 cards of the same denomination are highest. The 2 cards of the same denomination help only to constitute the full, but do not add to the value of the hand.

When hands are equal so far that each party holds a pair or 2 pairs of exactly the same value, then the next highest card or cards in each hand must be compared with the next highest card or cards in the other hand to determine which wins.

In case of the highest hands (which very seldom occurs) being exactly equal, the pool is divided.

The main elements of success in the game are: (1) good luck, (2) good cards, (3) plenty of cheek, and (4) good temper. (The Field.)

Vint, or Siberian Whist.--This game is at present much played and is very popular in Russia, and comprises some very interesting features. The scoring appears complicated, but is not really so, and may be easily learnt in one evening’s play.

It is similar to whist, with the difference that there are many more combinations, and the rewards and penalties are greater. The object is to make the number of tricks you declare, with a certain suit for trumps, or without trumps, according to the declaration; but should a less number of tricks be obtained, then a penalty of a certain number of points is scored to the opponents, according to the number of tricks short of the number declared. The side that reaches 400 first scores game, but the hands are played out and scores and penalties marked as usual. The laws of whist apply to revoke and general rules. Cut for partners and deal as in whist, the last card not to be turned up.

Value of Suits.--Spades, as seen below, are the lowest in value, and “without trumps” the highest.

“Spades” 4 “Clubs” 6 “Diamonds” 8 “Hearts” 10 “Without Trumps” 12 “Two Spades” 14 “Two Clubs” 16 “Two Diamonds” 18 “Two Hearts” 20 “Two without Trumps” 22 “Three Spades” 24 “Three Clubs” 26 “Three Diamonds” 28 “Three Hearts” 30 “Three without” 32

Declaring.--The dealer commences with one declaration, then the player on left hand, and so on; each declaration must be of a higher value than the previous one. Any number of declarations may be made by any player, but after each declaration all the other players have the right to declare in their turn, but no declaration can be made after all the 4 players have consecutively said “Pass.” A player not wishing to declare says “Pass.” Should, at the commencement, no declaration be made by the dealer, and all the players in their turn say “Pass,” the cards are thrown up, and the deal passes on as usual. This is called a “Bird,” and 300 points are noted, to be added to the score of points of the winners of the rubber. Several “Birds” may occur during a rubber, and are noted thus ⩋ = 300 points. A declaration of “Spades” or other suit, or “Without trumps,” means that 7 or more tricks will be made with declared suit trumps; “2 Spades” or other suit, 8 tricks will be made; “3 of a suit, or without trumps,” 9 tricks, and so on.

Scoring--Is noted at the end of each hand, every trick counting thus, with a declaration of “Spades,” AB., 7 tricks = 28; CD., 6 tricks = 24. A declaration of, say “3 Diamonds,” then AB. 9 tricks = 252; and CD., 4 tricks = 112; or if AB. make 10 tricks = 280; and CD. 3 = 84. Big Schlem, 1000; little ditto, 500; rubber, 1000; game, 500. Bird 300 each, scored to winners of rubber.

Honours, &c.--The 10 counts as an honour; 1 or 2 honours do not count; 3 honours, score according to value of suit thus: 3 honours spades score 120 (a zero always being added); 4 = 160; 5 = 200.

3 honours in, say hearts = 300; 4, 400; 5, 500. 3 aces count 150; 4, 200; 1 or 2 do not count. A game being played “without trumps,” honours do not count; but aces score, for 3, 300, 4, 400. The honours and aces may be in the 2 partners’ hands, as at whist.

Penalties.--Should the number of tricks declared not be made, the penalty is reckoned thus: For a declaration of, say “Spades,” other suit, or “without trumps,” 400 points for every trick under the number declared; a declaration of “Two” of any suit, 800 points; for “Three,” 1200 points for every trick, and so on. Thus, if the declaration was “Five” of a suit, or “without trumps,” and only 9 tricks were made, or 2 short, the penalty would be 4000 to be scored to the opponents. Penalties, honours, aces, &c., are scored above the line, and do not count towards game, but are scored as points. The total number of points scored by the losers during the game, and also the rubber, must be deducted from the winners’ score, the balance, if any, credited to the winners; or it may happen that the winners of a rubber may lose in points. Should the game be for stakes, so much per point should be calculated.

Illustrative “Vint” Hand.

A.’s Hand. C.’s Hand. Ace, 10, 7 ♠ | King, Qn, 5, 4 ♠ 10, 5 ♥ | Ace, Kg, Kv, 7, 4 ♥ King, 7 ♣ | 5, 3 ♣ Ace, Kg, Q, 8, 7, 2 ♦ | 9, 5 ♦

B.’s Hand. D.’s Hand. 9, 3, 2 ♠ | Knave, 8, 6 ♠ 3, 2 ♥ | Queen, 9, 8, 6 ♥ Ace, Knv, 9, 6, 2 ♣ | Queen, 10, 8, 4 ♣ Knave, 6, 3 ♦ | 10, 4 ♦

A. and B. are partners. A. is the dealer, and begins declaring

A.--“Diamonds.” C.--“Hearts.” B.--“Two clubs.” D.--“Two hearts.” A.--“Three spades.” C.--“Pass.” B.--“Three diamonds.” D.--“Pass.” A.--“Four clubs.” C.--“Pass.” B.--“Pass.” D.--“Pass.” A.--“Four diamonds.” C.--“Pass.” B.--“Pass.” D.--“Pass.” A.--“Pass.”

A. and B. have to make 10 tricks, with diamonds as trumps. C. leads.

+-----------+ | B | | | | C D | | | | A | +-----------+

A. and B. make 10 tricks, scored thus:

CD. AB. 3 aces 150 4 honours 320 ------------ -------------------- 114 380

The above hand is only given to show how the declaring may be made. (The Field.)

SUPPLEMENTARY LITERATURE.

Mrs. Orrinsmith: ‘The Drawing-room; its decorations and furniture.’ London, 1878. 2_s._ 6_d._

Henry J. Dakin: ‘The Stage in the Drawing-room; or the Theatre at Home. Practical Hints on Amateur Acting for Amateur Actors.’ London, 1883. 1_s._

Capt. Crawley: ‘The Handy Book of Games for Gentlemen. Billiards, Bagatelle, Backgammon, Chess, Draughts, Whist, Loo, Cribbage, Écarté, Picquet, All Fours, Quadrille, Pope Joan, Matrimony, Vingt-un, Quinze, Put, Speculation, &c.’ London, 1876. 5_s._

Cavendish’s ‘Pocket Guides to Backgammon, Chess, Draughts, &c.’ London, 1878. 6_d._ each.

THE BEDROOM.

=The Room.=--Some of the conditions affecting bedrooms have been already discussed on p. 101. It is not necessary to say anything about the special ventilation of bedrooms, for the same principles apply to them as to other rooms; but, in passing, it will be well to mention that there should be a floor space of at least 42 ft. to each person, and at least 500 cub. ft. of air space--more if possible; 12 ft. is quite high enough for ordinary rooms; all space above this is wasted, so far as health is concerned. There should be as little in the way of carpeting, bed and window curtains, as is consistent with comfort. Light metal bedsteads are the best. The floor is best stained and polished. Avoid crowding with heavy furniture as much as possible. If the bed is out of the way of direct draught, it is a good plan in summer to let down the top sash of the window a little way. Sleep will be more refreshing and sounder than if the window had been closed all night.

Edis would have the whole floor of the room stained and varnished, or painted, and strips of carpet, matting, or rugs thrown down only where required; these can be taken up and shaken every day without trouble, and the evil of fixed carpets is thus avoided. If, however, a carpet must be laid down, let it on no account go under the bed or within 2 ft. of the walls; the spaces under the bed or wall furniture would rarely be swept, and under heavy wardrobes and chests of drawers there would be a gradual accumulation of dirt and dust, until such time as the annual general turn-out and cleansing takes place. At least, leave the floor uncarpeted underneath a bed, so that the boards can be swept daily and scoured weekly. But if the room is close carpeted, a tightly-stretched piece of holland should be pinned down under the bed to receive the flue, which is certain to accumulate; the holland cloth can be taken away and replaced as frequently as occasion requires.

For the walls, Edis suggests a dark matting dado as a base, and the remainder of the wall to be distempered of some grateful soft tint, with graceful pattern border and frieze stencilled on, and here and there panels formed in the decoration, with enclosing lines of bright and well-selected colours, wherein might be enframed looking glasses, and here and there watercolours or photographs, as forming part of the decoration of the room, but not standing out of it in any too prominent manner. All this kind of work can be treated simply, and at little cost, and the distemper work can be rubbed over with bread crumbs, or brushed down, and so easily cleaned.

The general woodwork of the doors, windows, and skirtings should be painted in some plain colour to harmonise or contrast with the wall decoration, and the whole varnished; woodwork finished in this way can be easily washed or cleaned, and the extra expense of varnishing will be saved in a few years. Now that good painted tiles can be obtained at small expense, they may be used in washing stands with good effect, or the wall above might be lined entirely with them to a height of 2-3 ft.

With regard to warming bedrooms. It surely requires but very little common sense to see that it must be thoroughly bad for people to spend their evenings in warm comfortable rooms, with the thermometer at 60° F., and then to take their departure for chilly bedrooms, along cold passages, and to undress in a temperature of 30°-35° F. Even the strongest constitution must suffer more or less by such a proceeding. The favourite argument against warm bedrooms is that it is weakening. Sleeping in badly ventilated, hot rooms, may be weakening; but sleeping in a temperature of 50°-60° F. cannot possibly be so. If it were, then healthy sleep in the summer would be impossible. It is, of course, essential that the heating apparatus--be it a stove, a fire-place, hot-water pipes, hot-air ducts, or gas-stoves--should not consume the oxygen from the room without at the same time provision being made for the admission of fresh air from without. This fresh air from without need not, however, come into the room in a cold state. It may be first warmed by passing near to the fire or heating apparatus. Providing the above precautions be taken, there is no fear of warm rooms being injurious to health. Some grates suited to bedrooms have been described on pp. 61-71, especially the “Eagle”; but all grates possess objections for a bedroom, and probably the very best warming medium would be a soda acetate stove, as spoken of on p. 82.

As to flowers in a bedroom, it seems pretty safe to assume that the mischief of a dozen or two is theoretical rather than practical, and that those who like flowers in their bedroom may indulge their fancy quite safely. But it should be borne in mind that certain plants may throw off much larger quantities of carbonic acid gas than others; and some emit unpleasant odours. In any case, where flowers are grown in bedrooms, there should be very free ventilation.

The position of the bed in the room is of much importance, although many are utterly regardless of it. It depends on the size of the room, the part occupied by the fireplace, and the position of the windows. If possible, the bedstead should always be put between the door and windows; not at the end of a long room, where the fresh air can never blow upon it; and not opposite to the windows, as the glare from them is not agreeable on first awakening. It is not easy to lay down fixed rules, but the housewife should give this a proper amount of thought and care. It is wrong to place beds sideways against a wall, as they invariably spoil the paper or paint, and will very likely be badly made.

Servants are very often put in attics without fireplaces. This is an unwholesome plan which should be avoided, as without a chimney there cannot be proper ventilation. When an attic is the only available servants’ room, some ventilation should be effected by boring holes in the wall, or by making one large hole and inserting a grating. An open grate is, however, far preferable, as it greatly conduces to the wholesomeness of any sleeping room to have a fire lighted in it several times in the course of the winter. Bare boards, with good strips of carpet round the beds, a chest of drawers, looking-glass, and neat washstand for each servant, and a couple of cane chairs, would be quite enough for a room occupied by two maids. Each maid should certainly have a separate bed, and a comfortable one. Servants’ beds should never have valances round them, as it encourages a habit of keeping boxes and rubbish under the beds, which is most untidy and unwholesome. There should be a couple of bags hung up for soiled linen, unless a wash-basket can be spared. The room should be not only swept out every week in turn with the other bedrooms, but also well scrubbed all over with carbolic soap, and left to dry with windows and door open. If this is done, the room will never get stuffy. Encourage everything in the way of neatness and refinement. Cotton, twill, or unbleached linen is suitable for sheeting. Each servant should have one clean sheet a week, changing the upper one to the lower regularly. A clean pillowcase every week is generally necessary, and one large or two small towels. A bell communicating between the mistress’s room and the servants’ is a great convenience for calling them in the morning. Insist on having the beds stripped and the window opened as soon as the servants are up.

The Bed.--To revert to the bedstead, its size and length are well worthy of consideration. Of course these may vary according to the fancy of the occupant; but, unless in exceptional cases, a bed should never be less than 6 ft. 6 in. in length for a grown person. A tall man may be made utterly miserable by a bed too short for him, while the extra inches make but little difference, even in a small room. The width must vary as the tenant likes; but a bedstead to contain 2 persons should certainly never be less than 5 ft. 6 in., and will be better at 6 ft. in width.

The feather bed is now acknowledged to be a mistake, and detrimental to health and strength. It is both enervating and luxurious; it heats and relaxes the spine, and enfeebles the whole frame. Notwithstanding that warmth is considered of the utmost necessity for an infant, feather beds are now never put in their cots or bassinettes, wool and hair mattresses being used instead. In larger bedsteads in private houses, spring and hair mattresses have almost completely taken the place of the feather bed. Nevertheless, it should by no means be tabooed in the case of the old and infirm, who, having lost the quick pulsation so necessary for the warmth of the body, and still more the pliability of their limbs, require the surrounding softness of the feather bed to afford them the caloric they so much need, and a greater support and more yielding substance than the mattress to afford them rest. For them the feather bed is highly useful and desirable; but for the vigorous and the young there is not this excuse, and it should never be allowed. Besides which it is expensive, and requires much care to protect it from the moth.

The advantages of chaff beds are many. Real chaff, not chopped straw, is used for them, and they are cheap, easily filled, and easily renewed; the latter should be done once a year. Delightfully soft, and at the same time supporting, they have not the stuffy heat of feathers, but are warmer than mattresses. A chaff pillow and bolster to those suffering from headaches are luxuries. In making the bed, chaff must be well shaken.

The horsehair mattress is now usually preferred, and is an agreeable substitute, being cooler, more comfortable, and far better than the feather bed from a sanitary point of view. Then there is the wool or flock mattress, much less expensive, and very commonly found in servants’ rooms and in the dwellings of the poorer classes. It soon, however, wears flat, and even with care becomes lumpy after a short time, and moth is very likely to attack it. Even when mixed with hair, it makes an unsatisfactory bed, and loses much of the springiness which is so pleasant a sensation in one of superior horsehair. It must be owned, however, that not a little of the discomfort of wool mattresses is owing to the carelessness with which they are treated. If now and again they were unpicked, and the wool well carded, they could easily be restored to their first state and made clean and comfortable--for the tick which contains the wool is capable of being washed during the picking and carding process. French mattresses are irreproachable. It is the custom throughout France to renew the mattress once a year; and taking advantage of the summer months, they remove the tick covering, and pick, card, and pull the wool or hair until they have restored it to its original elasticity. The tick or covering is then replaced by a clean one, and very wholesome and pleasant is the result. The wool mattress is not at any time so pleasant as one made of horsehair, nor is it so durable; and indeed it is well to bear in mind, that the most economical method in the end is invariably to purchase the best material.

The housemaid should have strict injunctions to beat, shake, and turn all mattresses each morning, and they should be brushed all over from to time, in order to prevent dust and flue from accumulating underneath the little leather stars through which the thread for ticking the mattress down is passed. To prevent the edge of the mattress from becoming soiled, it is an admirable plan to sew or tack a border of glazed holland all round the palliasse and mattresses; and a still better one is to have them put into large white covers, after the fashion of a pillow case, as these may be removed and washed at will, keeping the external tick always as good as new.

A straw palliasse is the first thing placed upon the laths of the bed: with a proper amount of care this should last a lifetime. The spring mattress takes the place of it in many instances, being an invention of modern times. It is much more expensive, but is held in high esteem by most housewives, being considered superior in comfort to any other kind. But some housewives still prefer the palliasse, declaring that, with two good hair mattresses placed above it, no bed can be superior to it in elasticity and comfort.

The spring bed has its faults; the wires underneath, not easily reached, collect dust, and they may get out of order, in which case they occasion no small discomfort. The best spring bed is that called the Sommier Tucker--on a new principle, without a covering, so that it can be entirely cleaned and dusted throughout. These beds are undoubtedly cool and have the advantage of giving great elasticity to the bed, as indeed do all of their kind. A hair mattress is always placed on the springs; this, if well brushed and tended, ought to require only occasional renewal, perhaps once in 8-10 years.

The bolster is always of feathers; the pillows may be manufactured either of feathers or down, according to the fancy of the housewife. This is quite a matter of taste; and some like a hard, others a very soft pillow. The shape must also vary, according to the ideas of those most concerned. The oblong is the usual form, but a square cut one, after the French fashion, is a very comfortable style of pillow. The number of blankets must vary, according to each person’s taste and the time of year, but 2 on an average, are enough for temperate weather. Great care should be taken in the purchasing of these: they should be of the best quality, and the wool free from a mixture of cotton. They should be washed at least once a year; but that ought to be enough, as they are impoverished by constant cleansing. For winter wear the Witney blanket is a delightful covering. Sheets may be made either of linen or cotton, and their textures are numerous; varying from the delicate fine linen of the wealthy and luxurious housewife, to the thick, coarse, unbleached cotton of the poorer classes. Linen is the most durable, and is generally used in preference to cotton, as being more pleasant to the touch. It is cooler, preferable for summer wear, and some people are rendered hot and uncomfortable when sleeping in cotton sheets at any time of the year. In winter however, much may be said in their favour. By using them, the chill which first contact with linen invariably gives the skin is avoided. For children’s beds they are much the best, and can be bought of as fine a quality as the housewife desires. Twilled cotton wears the longest, and is a very suitable material for servants’ sheets. For keeping the feet warm there is no covering so pleasant as the eider down quilt, its lightness being its greatest recommendation. But each person has his or her idiosyncrasies on the matter of quilts, and the arrangement of the bed.

Making Beds.--Bear in mind, to begin with, that, unless a bed is properly aired every day, it certainly will not be a place of rest. Remember the instant you get up, to throw back all top clothes, and let the air come freely to the lower sheet. This will be a great help to the housemaid later on. A bed should always be stripped daily.

Every girl should, as a matter of course, learn to make her bed, and it would be very good for her if she had to do it regularly as part of the daily routine. Naturally, while little, she would require help and supervision; but after 14 she ought to make her bed, and be responsible for the general tidiness of her room, with no further interference than the sweeping and a little help in turning the mattresses. Rooms would be more daintily kept if girls were encouraged to see to such things and the housemaid would be saved a good deal of work.

The proper course in bed-making is as follows: The bolster and pillows should, after a slight shake, be laid aside; the mattress freed of the bedclothes, should be raised and allowed to stay in an arch for a few minutes, to let the air get to the palliasse or spring bed; then it should be turned head to foot, or side to side, to equalise the wear, and well kneaded and shaken, to prevent any hard lumps gathering. Next lay the binder blanket smoothly over it, then the sheet, allowing the piece at the top to roll the bolster in, if you do not use a bolster-case, tuck sheet and blanket firmly in at foot and sides; shake and toss the bolster well, and see the feathers are evenly distributed, roll it up in the sheet-end left for that purpose, and tuck the ends in well under the mattress, straining the sheet evenly and carefully to prevent folds and creases. Then lay on the top sheet, tucking it in well first at the foot end. Draw it up straight and even to the top; repeat this process with the blankets and the quilt; fold blankets and sheets well in under the mattress, letting the sides of the quilt hang evenly and loose over them all; then turn back the top of the sheet ½ ft. over blankets and quilt and finally turn all together back just below the bolster; shake the pillows as you did the bolster, place them in position, and then when you have laid the eider down quilt in its place your bed is made. The mattress should be dusted daily, and once a week the whole bed should be brushed and overhauled.

=Sleep.= Bedfellows.--There is nothing that will so derange the nervous system of a person who is eliminative in nervous force as to lie all night in bed with another person who is absorbent in nervous force. The absorber will go to sleep and rest all night; while the eliminator will be tumbling and tossing, restless and nervous, and wake up in the morning fretful, peevish, fault-finding, and discouraged. No 2 persons, no matter who they are, should habitually sleep together. One will thrive and the other will lose. So say the doctors.

Length of Sleep.--It is manifestly impossible to lay down any universally applicable rule as to the number of hours which it is desirable to sleep. Probably no two persons require precisely the same amount of slumber, and it is scarcely likely that any person needs the same length of sleep on all occasions. Sleep is the state in which the fires are, so to say, damped down, and the machinery has opportunity for cooling. The bow is, as it were, unstrung, and may recover its elasticity during the recurring periods of slumber. The great point is to secure what Bichât characterised as “general” sleep made up of particular sleeps. The whole body should be rested--so far as any avoidable demand on its energy is concerned--during sleep. If sleep be thorough, then a short spell will do more good than a much longer duration of sleep that is incomplete and imperfect, both in its nature and in its effects. Sleep is a distinctly natural function, and therefore, both as regards its induction and management, ought to be performed in conformity with natural laws. Practically, a man should sleep until he is refreshed. The mistake many persons make is in attempting to govern what must be a matter of instinct by volitional control. When we are weary we ought to sleep, and when we wake we should get up. There are no more vicious habits than adopting measures to “keep awake” or employing artifices, or, still worse, resorting to drugs and other devices to induce or prolong sleep. Dozing is the very demoralisation of the sleep function, and from this pernicious habit arises much of the so-called sleeplessness--more accurately wakefulness--from which multitudes suffer.

The secret of good sleep is (the physiological conditions of rest being established) to so work and weary the several parts of the organism as to give them a proportionally equal need of rest at the same moment. The cerebrum or mind organ, the sense organs, the muscular system, and the viscera should be all ready to sleep together, and, so far as may be possible, they should be equally tired. To wake early and feel ready to rise, this fair and equal start of the sleepers should be secured; and the wise self-manager should not allow a drowsy feeling of the consciousness or weary senses, or an exhausted muscular system, to beguile him into the folly of going to sleep again when once his consciousness has been aroused. After a very few days of self-discipline the man who resolves not to “doze,” that is, to allow some still sleepy part of his body to keep him in bed after his brain has once awakened, will find himself, without knowing how, “an early riser.”

Wakefulness.--The difficulties about sleep and sleeplessness--apart from dreams--are almost uniformly fruits of a perverse refusal to comply with the laws of nature. Take, for example, the case of a man who cannot sleep at night, or rather who, having fallen asleep, wakes. If he is what is called strong-minded, he thinks, or perhaps reads, and falls asleep again. This being repeated lays the foundation of a habit of waking in the night and thinking or reading to induce sleep. Before long the thinking or reading fails to induce sleep, and habitual sleeplessness occurs, for which remedies are sought and mischief is done. If the wakeful man would only rouse himself on waking, and get up and do a full day’s work, of any sort, and not doze during the day, when next the night came round his 16 or 20 hours of wakefulness would be rewarded by a sleep of 9-10 hours in length; and one or two of these manful struggles against a perverted tendency to abnormal habit would rectify the error and avert the calamity. The cure for sleeplessness must be natural, because sleep is a state of natural rhythmical function. You cannot tamper with the striking movement of a clock without injuring it, and you cannot tamper with orderly recurrence of sleep without impairing the very constitution of things on which the orderly performance of the function depends. (Lancet.)

Nothing lowers the vital forces more than sleeplessness, which may generally be traced to one of four causations: (1) Mental worry; (2) a disordered stomach; (3) excessive muscular exertion; (4) functional or organic disease. Loss of sleep is, when rightly understood, one of Nature’s premonitory warnings that some of her physical laws have been violated. When we are troubled with sleeplessness, it becomes requisite to discover the primary cause, and then to adopt suitable means for its removal. When insomnia (sleeplessness) arises from mental worry, it is indeed most difficult to remove. The best and perhaps only effectual plan under such circumstances is a spare diet, combined with plenty of outdoor exercise, thus to draw the blood from the brain; for it is as impossible for the brain to continue active without a due circulation of blood, as it is for an engine to move without steam.

When suffering from mental distress, a hot soap bath before retiring to rest is an invaluable agent for obtaining sleep, as by its means a more equable blood pressure becomes established, promoting a decrease of the heart’s action and relaxation of the blood vessels. Many a sleepless night owes its origin to the body’s temperature being unequal. In mental worry, the head is often hot and the feet cold, the blood being driven to the brain. The whole body should be well washed over with carbolic soap and sponged with very hot water. The blood then becomes diverted from the brain, owing to an adequate diffusion of circulation. Tea and coffee should not be taken of an evening when persons suffer from insomnia, as they directly induce sleeplessness, being nervine stimulants. A sharp walk of about 20 minutes is also very serviceable before going to bed. (Chambers Journal.)

Sleeplessness is sometimes engendered by a disordered stomach. Whenever this organ is overloaded, its powers are disordered, and wakefulness or a restless night is its usual accompaniment. No food should be taken at least within 1 hour of bedtime. It cannot be too generally realised that the presence of undigested food in the stomach is one of the most prevailing causes of sleeplessness. (Dr. C. J. B. Williams.)

Persons suffering from either functional or organic disease are peculiarly liable to sleeplessness. When inability to sleep persistently occurs, and cannot be traced to any perverted mode of life or nutrition, there is good reason for surmising that some latent malady gives rise to so truly a distressing condition. Under these circumstances, instead of making bad worse, by swallowing deadly sleeping drugs, a scientific physician should be without delay consulted. Functional disorders of the stomach, liver, and heart are often the primary source of otherwise unaccountable wakefulness.

Recently, the dangerous and lamentable habit of promiscuously taking sleeping draughts has unfortunately become very prevalent, entailing misery and ill health to a terrible degree. Most persons addicted to this destructive practice erroneously think that it is better to take a sleeping draught than lie awake. A greater mistake could hardly exist. All opiates more or less occasion mischief, and even the state of stupefaction they induce utterly fails to bring about that revitalisation resulting from natural sleep. The physiological effect of hypnotics, or sleeping draughts, upon the system is briefly as follows: They paralyse the nerve centres and disorder the stomach, rendering it unfit for its duties; they have life destroying properties in a low degree; the condition they produce is not sleep, but a counterfeit state of unconsciousness; and they directly poison the blood, consequent upon its carbonisation, resulting from their action. Of all hypnotics, chloral is by far the most deadly, and should never, under any circumstances, be taken except under medical supervision.

To epitomise what has already been said regarding wakefulness; its rational cure should be arrived at in each individual case by seeking out the cause, and then removing the morbid action, of which it is but a natural sequence. Lastly, sleeplessness under no circumstances should be neglected, as it acts disastrously both on the mental and physical forces.

Dr. Corning drops a few simple hints which may be of value. In the first place, he insists that people should have a regular time for going to sleep, and it should be as soon as can well be after sunset. People who sleep at any time, according to convenience, get less benefit from their sleep than others; getting sleep becomes more difficult; there is a tendency to nervous excitability and derangement; the repair of the system does not equal the waste. The more finely organised people are, the greater the difficulty and the danger from this cause. The first thing in order to sleep well is to go to bed at a regular hour, and make it as early as possible. The next thing is to exclude all worry and exciting subjects of thought from the mind some time before retiring. The body and mind must be let down from the high-pressure strain before going to bed, so that nature can assert her rightful supremacy afterwards. Another point is, never to thwart the drowsy impulse when it comes at the regular time by special efforts to keep awake, for this drowsiness is the advance guard of healthy, restorative sleep. Sleep is a boon which must not be tampered with and put off, for if compelled to wait, it is never so perfect and restful as if taken in its own natural time and way. The right side is the best to sleep on, except in special cases of disease, and the position should be nearly horizontal. Finally, the evening meal should be composed of food most easily digested and assimilated, so that the stomach will have little hard work to do. A heavy, rich dinner taken in the evening is one of the things that murder sleep, says Dr. Corning; yet many people will say just the opposite, and find they sleep most readily on a full stomach; obviously this rule varies with surrounding conditions. Late suppers with exciting foods and stimulating drinks make really restorative sleep next to impossible. Narcotics are to be avoided, save as used in cases of disease by competent physicians. The proper time, according to Dr. Corning, to treat sleeplessness is in the day-time, and it must be treated by a wise and temperate method of living rather than by medicines.

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