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:—
This might be furnished by a mixed diet of the following foods:—
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 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’ Physiologists lay down the standard diet for ordinary labour pretty much as follows:—
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, 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.
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.
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 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, (a) Animal Food-stuffs.
(b) Vegetable Food-stuffs.
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.
This may be compared with the following table of precedence in digestibility of some animal foods, on the authority of Chambers:—
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:
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 ? 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. Diarrhoea 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 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, 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 ?, 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:— [a] Calculated from total nitrogen present. 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 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 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 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 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 manoeuvre. 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 oesophagus. 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 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 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 ? 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 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 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 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 qu 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 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 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 TableLaying 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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, 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. 84. Dinner Serviette. 86. Dinner Serviette. 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. 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 CarvingCarving.—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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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. DinnersDinners.—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 boeuf, 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 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 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 boeuf 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 oeufs 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 boeuf 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 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 boeuf 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 boeuf À la jardiniÈre. Plovers (3 or 4). Croustades aux huÎtres. Beignets soufflÉs. 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 boeuf 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. For 6-8.—(a) Potage aux pÂtÉs d’Italie. Saumon, sauce aux cÂpres. Kromeskies de volaille. Tendrons de veau aux petits pois. Filets de boeuf 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 boeuf 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, 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 boeuf 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 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. BreakfastsBreakfasts.—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. LuncheonsLuncheons.—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 TeasTeas.—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, 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 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.) SuppersSuppers.—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. MiscellaneousMiscellaneous.—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 oeufs de pluviers. Chapons À la BÉchamel, pintades piquÉes, poulets et langue, jambons glacÉs, galantines de boeuf, 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 boeuf 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. 5s. Mrs. Loftie: ‘The Dining Room.’ London, 1878. 2s. 6d. John Perkins: ‘Floral Designs for the Table.’ London, 1877. 5s. ‘The Book of Dinner Serviettes.’ London, 1876. |