A MODERN DINNER.

George Baxter and his wife returned to New York, after a winter spent in California just a week before Mrs. Baxter's sister and her husband were preparing to start for a second summer in Europe. A third sister, Alice Smith, decided to give the travelers a small dinner, to which only the family should be invited.

When the evening arrived, eleven members of the Atwood family gathered about the table in Mr. Smith's capacious dining room, the seat of honor being given to the mother, Mrs. Atwood. Besides the three married couples, Frank and Alice Smith, Albert and Mary Fremont, and George and Lucy Baxter, there were the four unmarried children. James, the oldest son, was a banker in the city; Walter, next younger than Lucy, was a student fitting for Columbia University; Fred and Mabel were still classed as school children.

After the trim waiter had brought on the soup, the moment's quiet was broken by George Baxter, who said to the hostess: "How good to get back to New York once more, if only to get a soup that one can eat without burning the mouth with the sharp condiments. You have no seasoning at all in the soup, have you, Alice?"

"Oh, yes," replied the hostess," it is a very simple soup, but there is the usual pepper and salt. What have you been in the habit of having?"

"I am sure that I could tell what we did not have in some of our Mexican soups much easier than what we did have. I should think that there must have been both kinds of pepper, ginger, garlic, mustard, horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, and everything else. I cannot understand why people living in the tropics want to season their food with such hot stuff."

"What do you mean by two kinds of pepper, brother George?" asked Mabel.

"Cayenne pepper and black pepper," was the reply.

"Oh, yes, I know!" said Fred. "Cayenne pepper comes from Cayenne in French Guiana. But where do we get black pepper?"

"Nearly all of it comes from Sumatra," said Mary. "Do you know where Sumatra is, Mabel?"

"Sumatra is one of the large islands south and southeast of Asia, which are called the East Indies," replied the schoolgirl.

The conversation had now become general, and Mr. Smith called attention to the distance that these condiments travel in reaching us.

"Sumatra is almost exactly on the opposite side of the earth from us," said he. "Fred, how would the black pepper be brought to New York from Sumatra?"

"Across the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea, through the Suez Canal and the Mediterranean Sea, I suppose. But I do not know whether it would then come straight across the Atlantic Ocean, or first go to England."

"Usually," said Mr. Smith," it would go to England first."

"Alice," broke in Mabel," what else is in the soup beside pepper? Oh, I know, salt. Is salt also brought half-way round the world?"

"I know where salt comes from," said Fred;" up State. It is dug out of the ground near Syracuse."

"That is right, Fred," said James. "But New York State does not supply all the salt used in this country. For years many ships and barks have come yearly into Gloucester harbor from Sicily, bringing salt for the fishing-schooners. Steamers even are being used to bring salt from the Mediterranean Sea, in order that the Gloucester fishermen may send salt fish all over our country."

"We must not forget," said Mrs. Smith, "that there is rice in our soup also. That comes from South Carolina."

Just then the plates were removed and the fish was brought on.

"This is a rarity," said the hostess. "Can you tell us what it is, James?"

"I think so. It is halibut, is it not?"

"Why do you call it a rarity?" asked Mary.

"This halibut came from the Grand Banks," said Mrs. Smith. "I do not understand how they get it here so fresh."

James, who seemed to be quite familiar with the Gloucester fisheries, said: "The fishermen brought their load of halibut to the Gloucester wharves last night and immediately loaded it upon the Boston steamer. Three o'clock in the morning was its time for sailing, and at six it was being unloaded in Boston. The six-hour trains brought some of it to New York in time for our dinner."

"Steamers and railroad trains seem necessary for our dinner, do they not?" said Albert. "But this fish sauce contains only articles from nearer home, I am sure."

"Do not be too certain of that," said Mr. Smith. "Alice, what is there in this sauce?"

"First, there are eggs."

"Those came from our Long Island farm, of course," said her husband.

"Then there is olive oil."

"That comes from Italy," said Mr. Smith. "That is not a home product. The olives that you are eating are, of course, from Italy also."

"I doubt that," said George. "I was just about to remark that these olives had come from California. I can easily detect the taste."

"Yes, "the hostess added. "These olives I bought just to see if George and Lucy would notice that they were not our usual queen olives. They are said to have come from Pomona."

"That is a great olive center," said George.

"What else is there in the sauce, Alice?" asked her husband.

"Pepper and salt, vinegar——"

"Cider vinegar, I suppose," broke in Mrs. Baxter. "How much nicer apple vinegar is than grape vinegar! Most of the vinegar that we had in California was made from wine. That State is becoming a great grape-producing region. But do you know, Frank, where the apples were grown?"

"No," said Mr. Smith, "but probably they were raised either in Vermont or New Hampshire. Last year the New York apple orchards gave but a poor yield, while those of New England did much better. Probably this season will prove an off year for Vermont apples, but we shall have all that we can use in our own State."

"A little lemon ends the list," said the hostess.

"Lemons from Sicily, I suppose," remarked Mr. Baxter. "Have you tried the California lemons yet?"

"Yes," said Mr. Smith. "We can sometimes get very fine lemons from California, but not always. If the growers of lemons were more particular about the quality of the fruit that they send out, there would be a better trade in California lemons."

While this conversation was going on, the fish was removed and a roast of beef was placed on the table, and with it the vegetables. The different members of the family had become quite interested in the discussion by this time, and it was continued as a matter of course.

"This is a good piece of beef," remarked James Atwood. "What are we going to do for meat when the natural increase in the amount of land devoted to cultivation uses up all the grazing regions?"

"You need not fret about that," said Mr. Baxter; "that will not come in your day. You ought to take a trip through Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona, through Wyoming and Montana, or other sections of the Rocky Mountain region, and you would not fear for our cattle-raising interests."

"Here, again, the railroads are important," said Mr. Fremont. "What numbers of long freight trains daily come east, loaded with cattle for New York and Boston, and even for Great Britain and the Continent. The European consumption of our cattle is of great and rapidly growing importance."

"These new potatoes came from the Bermudas," remarked the host.

"And the peas from Maryland," added the hostess. "Do you not think that these are remarkably fresh after having been brought so far?"

"How about the lettuce?" asked James. "That must have come from some greenhouse."

"Without doubt, though I did not inquire," replied Mrs. Smith.

Not willing to leave anything out of the conversation, Mabel here inquired about the macaroni and tomatoes.

"The macaroni comes from Italy," replied her sister Mary. "Much of it is shipped from Genoa, the city which claims to have been the birthplace of Columbus. You would find it interesting, Mabel, to read about the production and preparation of macaroni."

"The tomatoes were canned on our farm last autumn," said Mrs. Smith. "We think them much superior to any that we can buy."

After this the conversation turned upon the bread. There were two kinds, white and brown. One of the ladies remarked that she never ate white bread; bread from whole wheat flour was so much more wholesome. Another said that graham bread was good enough for her. They talked about the white flour, made in Minneapolis, from Dakota wheat. They spoke of the Indian meal made from corn grown in Iowa. They wondered why so little rye was used in this country, since it is the staple grain in Russia. They then inquired concerning the other substances used in making the two kinds of bread.

"Where does the butter come from?" asked Mrs. Fremont.

"This particular box is marked from Delaware County, New York," replied the hostess. "Most of the creameries that send butter to New York City are located at some distance from the railroads. The farms nearer the railroads send all their milk to the city. But the farmers that are too remote profitably to send in the milk make the cream into butter and cheese. They then feed the buttermilk to the pigs."

"That is a new thought to me," said James. "So it seems that some products are made only where there are no railroads."

"Or where there is no great city within a few hundred miles," added Walter.

"I suppose there is molasses in this brown bread," said Lucy Baxter.

"Molasses comes from Porto Rico," said Mabel, who was studying the West Indies just at this time in her geography lessons at school.

"Some of it," said her oldest sister. "But most of the sugar comes from Cuba."

"But not all," said James. "This sugar has been traveling for nearly two weeks to reach New York. First a sea voyage of more than two thousand miles, and then a railroad journey of more than three thousand miles, and yet the section where it grew is a part of the United States."

"It must have come from Honolulu then," said Walter. "I wonder whether the Sandwich Islands, being now a part of the United States, will interfere with the raising of sugar cane in our Southern States?"

"Very little probably, but now that the United States possesses Hawaii and Porto Rico, it will scarcely be necessary for us to import any sugar and molasses," said Fred.

When the dessert and fruit were brought on, new subjects for conversation were found.

"What do you call this pudding, Alice?" asked her husband.

"It is a peach-tapioca pudding," was the reply. "The peaches are from Delaware; canned, of course."

"Here, again, the West Indies are represented," said James; "the tapioca came from Hayti."

"And the East Indies also," added Walter, "for I taste nutmeg, which comes from the Molucca Islands. These islands furnish such an amount of spice that they are commonly called the Spice Islands."

The discussion of foods continued throughout the dinner. The oranges, almost the last of the season, had been brought from California. Florida oranges were scarce that year. The bananas were from Mexico and almost a luxury. The war with Spain had destroyed trade with Cuba, from which island the great bulk of bananas had usually come.

Among the nuts were almonds that had been imported from Italy, filberts that had been sent across the ocean from England, and walnuts that had come from California. Finally the coffee was from the island of Java.

Before the dinner party broke up, Mr. Smith reviewed the facts which had been learned in the conversation. He especially called attention to the small number of articles that are not profitably raised in the United States.

"We should miss our coffee very much," he said, "if our country were blockaded at any time. The loss of the banana would be the loss of a luxury. Had we no macaroni or tapioca we should still have enough to eat. Perhaps our taste would become more natural were we deprived of pepper. No other of the foods on this table should we be entirely deprived of, even were we separated wholly from the rest of the world. California could furnish us with olives, lemons, and almonds, as well as Italy does. We need not go to England for filberts, and even if we had not of late obtained new colonies, we could produce in time all the sugar we needed to supply the entire country. No other nation in the world is so well prepared to furnish its own food."