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diff --git a/41632.txt b/41632.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7f5e230..0000000 --- a/41632.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12747 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Art of Entertaining, by M. E. W. Sherwood - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: The Art of Entertaining - - -Author: M. E. W. Sherwood - - - -Release Date: December 15, 2012 [eBook #41632] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF ENTERTAINING*** - - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - http://archive.org/details/artofentertainin00sher - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -THE ART OF ENTERTAINING - -by - -M. E. W. SHERWOOD - - This night - Beneath my roof my dearest friends I entertain - HOMER - - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead and Company -1893 - -Copyright, 1892, -by Dodd, Mead and Company. - -All rights reserved. - -University Press: -John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. - - - - - _With a grateful recognition of his services to_ - "The Art of Entertaining," - - _Both at home and abroad, and with a profound respect for his wit, - eloquence, and learning, this book is dedicated_ - - TO - THE HON. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW, - - BY HIS FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -In America the art of entertaining as compared with the same art in -England, in France, in Italy and in Germany may be said to be in its -infancy. But if it is, it is a very vigorous infant, perhaps a little -overfed. There is no such prodigality of food anywhere nor a more -genuinely hospitable people in the world than those descendants of the -Pilgrims and the Cavaliers who peopled the North and South of what we -are privileged to call the United States. Exiles from Fatherland -taught the Indians the words "Welcome!" and "What Cheer?"--a beautiful -and a noble prophecy. Well might it be the motto for our national -shield. We, who welcome to our broad garden-lands the hungry and the -needy of an overcrowded old world, can well appropriate the legend. - -No stories of that old Biblical world of the patriarchs who lived in -tents have been forgotten in the New World. The Western settler who -placed before his hungry guest the last morsel of jerked meat, or -whose pale, overworked wife broiled the fish or the bird which had -just fallen before his unerring gun,--these people had mastered in -their way the first principle in the art of entertaining. They have -the hospitality of the heart. From that meal to a Newport dinner what -an infinite series of gradations! - -Perhaps we may help those on the lower rungs of the ladder to mount -from one to the other. Perhaps we may hint at the poetry, the romance, -the history, the literature of entertaining; perhaps with practical -hints of how to feed our guests we may suggest where meat faileth to -feed the soul, and where intellect, wit, and taste come in. - -American dinners are pronounced by foreign critics as overdone. The -great _too much_ is urged against us. We are a wasteful people as to -food; we should learn an elegant and a wise economy. In a French -family, eggs and lumps of sugar are counted. Economy is a part of the -art of entertaining; if judiciously studied it is far from -niggardliness. Such economy leads to judicious selection. - -One has but to read the Odes of Horace to learn how much of the mind -can be appropriately devoted to the art of entertaining. Milton does -not disdain, in Paradise Lost, to give us the _menu_ of Eve's dinner -to the Angel. We find in all great poets and historians stories of -great feasts. And with us in the nineteenth century, dinner is not -alone a thing of twelve courses, it is the bright consummate flower of -the day, which brings us all together from our various fields of work. -It is the open sesame of the soul, the hour of repose, of amusement, -of innocent hilarity,--the hour which knits up the ravelled sleeve of -care. The body is carefully apparelled, the mind swept and garnished, -the brain prepared for fresh impress. It is said that no important -political movement was ever inaugurated without a dinner, and we may -fancifully state that no great poem, no novel, no philosophical -treatise, but has been made or marred by a dinner. - -There is much entertaining, however, which is not eating. We do not -gorge ourselves, as in the days of Dr. Johnson, until the veins in the -forehead swell to bursting, but perhaps we are just as far from those -banquets which Horace describes,--a glass of Falernian, a kid roasted, -a bunch of grapes, and a rose, with good talk afterward. We have not -mingled enough of the honey of Hymettus with our cookery. - -Lady Morgan described years ago a dinner at Baron Rothschild's in -Paris where the fineness of the napery, the beauty of the porcelain -and china, the light, digestible French dishes, seemed to her a great -improvement on the heaviness of an English dinner. That one paper is -said to have altered the whole fabric of English dinner-giving. -English dinners of to-day are superlatively good and agreeable in the -best houses, and although national English cookery is not equal to -that on the other side of the Channel, perhaps we could not have a -better model to follow. We can compass an "all round" mastery of the -art of entertaining if we choose. - -It is not alone the wealth of America which can assist us, although -wealth is a good thing. It is our boundless resource, and the -capability, spirit, and generosity of our people. Venice alone at one -imperial moment of her success had such a chance as we have; she was -free, she was industrious, she was commercial, she was rich, she was -artistic. All the world paid her tribute. And we see on her walls -to-day, fixed there by the pencils of Tintoretto and Titian, what was -her idea of the art of entertaining. Poetry, painting, and music were -the hand-maidens of plenty; they wait upon those Godlike men and those -beautiful women. It is a saturnalia of colour, an apotheosis of plenty -with no vulgar excess, with no slumberous repletion. "'Tis but the -fool who loves excess," says our American Horace in his "Ode to an Old -Punch Bowl." - -When we read Charles Lamb's "Essay on Roast Pig," Brillat Savarin's -grave and witty "Physiologie du Gout," Thackeray's "Fitz Boodle's -Professions," Sydney Smith's poetical recipe for a salad; when we read -Disraeli's description of dinners, or the immortal recipes for good -cheer which Dickens has scattered through his books, we learn how much -the better part of dinner is that which we do not eat, but only think -about. What a liberal education to hear the late Samuel Ward talk -about good dinners! Variety not vegetables, manners not meat, was his -motto. He invested the whole subject with a sort of classic elegance -and a humorous sense of responsibility. Anacreon and Charles Delmonico -seemed to mingle in his brain, and one would gladly now be able to -dine with him and Longfellow at their yearly Christmas dinner. - -Cookery books, receipts, and _menus_ are apt to be of little use to -young housekeepers before they have mastered the great art of -entertaining. Then they are like the system of logarithms to the -mariner. Almost all young housekeepers are at sea without a chart. A -great, turbulent ocean of butchers, bakers and Irish servants swim -before their eyes. How grapple with that important question, "How -shall I give a dinner?" Who can help them? Shall we try? - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - OUR AMERICAN RESOURCES AND FOREIGN ALLIES 13 - - THE HOSTESS 22 - - BREAKFAST 35 - - THE LUNCH 49 - - AFTERNOON TEA 59 - - THE INTELLECTUAL COMPONENTS OF A DINNER 68 - - CONSCIENTIOUS DINERS 79 - - VARIOUS MODES OF GASTRONOMICAL GRATIFICATION 94 - - SOUPS 105 - - FISH 113 - - SALAD 124 - - DESSERTS 134 - - GERMAN EATING AND DRINKING 143 - - THE INFLUENCE OF GOOD CHEER ON AUTHORS - AND GENIUSES 152 - - BONBONS 162 - - FAMOUS MENUS AND RECEIPTS 176 - - COOKERIES AND WINES OF SOUTHERN EUROPE 185 - - SOME ODDITIES IN THE ART OF ENTERTAINING 197 - - THE SERVANT QUESTION 206 - - SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS 221 - - FURNISHING A COUNTRY HOUSE 233 - - ENTERTAINING IN A COUNTRY HOUSE 241 - - A PICNIC 253 - - PASTIMES OF LADIES 260 - - PRIVATE THEATRICALS 271 - - HUNTING AND SHOOTING 280 - - GOLF 288 - - GAMES 299 - - ARCHERY 313 - - THE SEASON--BALLS AND RECEPTIONS 321 - - WEDDINGS 331 - - HOW ROYALTY ENTERTAINS 340 - - ENTERTAINING AT EASTER 353 - - HOW TO ENTERTAIN CHILDREN 361 - - CHRISTMAS AND CHILDREN 371 - - CERTAIN PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS 381 - - THE COMPARATIVE MERITS OF AMERICAN AND - FOREIGN MODES OF ENTERTAINING 389 - - - - -THE ART OF ENTERTAINING. - - - - -OUR AMERICAN RESOURCES, AND FOREIGN ALLIES. - - "Let observation, with extensive view, - Survey mankind from China to Peru." - - -The amount of game and fish which our great country and extent of -sea-coast give us, the variety of climate from Florida to Maine, from -San Francisco to Boston, which the remarkable net-work of our railway -communication allows us to enjoy,--all this makes the American market -in any great city almost fabulously profuse. Then our steamships bring -us fresh artichokes from Algiers in mid-winter, and figs from the -Mediterranean, while the remarkable climate of California gives us -four crops of delicate fruits a year. - -There are those, however, who find the fruits of California less -finely flavoured than those of the Eastern States. The peaches of the -past are almost a lost flavour, even at the North. The peach of Europe -is a different and far inferior fruit. It lacks that essential flavour -which to the American palate tells of the best of fruits. - -It may be well, for the purposes of gastronomical history, to narrate -the variety of the larder in the height of the season, of a certain -sea-side club-house, a few years ago: - -"The season lasted one hundred and eighty days, during which time from -eighty thousand to ninety thousand game-birds, and eighteen thousand -pounds of fish were consumed, exclusive of domestic poultry, steaks -and chops. On busy days twenty-four kinds of fish, all fit for -epicures, embracing turbot, Spanish mackerel, sea trout; the various -kinds of bass, including that gamest of fish the black bass, bonito -from the Gulf of Mexico, the purple mullet, the weakfish, chicken -halibut, sole, plaice, the frog, the soft crab from the Chesapeake, -were served. Here, packed tier upon tier in glistening ice, were some -thirty kinds of birds in the very ecstasy of prime condition, and all -ready prepared for the cook. Let us enumerate 'this royal fellowship -of game.' There were owls from the North (we might call them by some -more enticing name), chicken grouse from Illinois, chicken partridge, -Lake Erie black and summer ducks and teal, woodcock, upland plover (by -many esteemed as the choicest of morsels), dough-birds, brant, New -Jersey millet, godwit, jack curlew, jacksnipe, sandsnipe, rocksnipe, -humming-birds daintily served in nut-shells, golden plover, -beetle-headed plover, redbreast plover, chicken plover, seckle-bill -curlew, summer and winter yellow-legs, reed-birds and rail from -Delaware (the latter most highly esteemed in Europe, where it is known -as the ortolan), ring-neck snipe, brown backs, grass-bird, and peeps." - -Is not this a list to make "the rash gazer wipe his eye"? - -And to show our riches and their poverty in the matter of game, let us -give the game statistics of France for one September. There are thirty -thousand communes in France, and in each commune there were killed on -the average on September 1, ten hares,--total, three hundred thousand; -seventeen partridges,--total, five hundred and ten thousand; fourteen -quail,--total, four hundred and twenty thousand; one rail in each -commune,--thirty thousand total as to rails. That was all France could -do for the furnishing of the larder; of course she imports game from -Savoy, Germany, Norway, and England. And oh, how she can cook them! - -Woodcock, it is said, should be cooked the day it is shot, or -certainly when fresh. Birds that feed on or near the water should be -eaten fresh; so should snipe and some kinds of duck. The canvasback -alone bears keeping, the others get fishy. - -Snipe should be picked by hand, on no account drawn; that is a -practice worthy of an Esquimaux. Nor should any condiment be cooked -with woodcock, save butter or pork. A piece of toast under him, to -catch his fragrant gravy, and the delicious trail should alone be -eaten with the snipe; but a bottle of Chambertin may be drunk to wash -him down. - -The plover should be roasted quickly before a hot fire; nor should -even a pork jacket be applied if one wishes the delicious juices of -the bird alone. This bird should be served with water-cresses. - -Red wine should be drunk with game,--Chambertin, Clos de Vougeot, or a -sound Lafitte or La Tour claret. Champagne is not the wine to serve -with game; that belongs to the filet. With beef _braise_ a glass of -good golden sherry is allowable, but not champagne. The deep purple, -full-bodied, velvety wines of the Cote d'Or,--the generous vintages of -Burgundy,--are in order. Indeed these wines always have been in high -renown. They are passed as presents from one royal personage to -another, like a _cordon d'honneur_. Burgundy was the wine of nobles -and churchmen, who always have had enviable palates. - -Chambertin is a lighter kind of Volnay and the _vin veloute par -excellence_ of the Cote d'Or. It was a great favourite with Napoleon -I. To considerable body it unites a fine flavour and a _suave bouquet_ -of great _finesse_, and does not become thin with age like other -Burgundies. As for the Clos de Vougeot, its characteristics are a rich -ruby colour, velvety softness, a delicate bouquet, which has a slight -suggestion of the raspberry. It is a strong wine, less refined in -flavour than the Chambertin, and with a suggestion of bitterness. It -was so much admired by a certain military commander that while -marching his regiment to the Rhine he commanded his men to halt before -the vineyard and salute it. They presented arms in its honour. - -Chateau Lafitte, renowned for its magnificent colour, exquisite -softness, delicate flavour, and fragrant bouquet, recalling almonds -and violets, is one of the wines of the Gironde, and is supposed of -late to have deteriorated in quality; but it is quite good enough to -command a high price and the attention of _connoisseurs_. - -Chateau La Tour, a grand Medoc claret, derives its name from an -existing ancient, massive, round tower, which the English assailed and -defended by turns during the wars in Guienne. It has a pronounced -flavour, and a powerful bouquet, common to all wines of the Gironde. -It reminds one of the odour of almonds, and of Noyau cordials. - -These vineyards were in great repute five centuries ago; and it would -be delightful to pursue the history of the various _crus_, did time -permit. The Cos d'Estoumet of the famous St. Estephe _crus_ is still -made by the peasants treading out the grapes, _foule a pied_, to the -accompaniment of pipes and fiddles as in the days of Louis XIV. - -We will mention the two _premiers grands crus_ of the Gironde, the -growth of the ancient vineyards of Leoville and the St. Julian wines, -distinguished by their odour of violets. - -Thackeray praises Chambertin in verse more than once:-- - - "'Oui, oui, Monsieur,' 's the waiter's answer; - 'Quel vin Monsieur desire-t-il?' - 'Tell me a good one.'--'That I can, sir: - The Chambertin, with yellow seal.'" - -Then again he speaks of dipping his gray beard in the Gascon wine 'ere -Time catches him at it and Death knocks the crimson goblet from his -lips. - -In countries where wine is grown there is little or no drunkenness. It -is to be feared that drunkenness is increased by impure wines. It is -shocking to read of the adulterations which first-class wines are -subjected to, or rather the adulterations which are called first-class -wines. - -Wilkie Collins has a hit at this in his "No Name," where he makes the -famous Captain Wragge say, "We were engaged at the time in making, in -a small back parlour in Brompton, a fine first-class sherry, sound in -the mouth, tonic in character, and a great favourite with the Court of -Spain." - -Our golden sherry, our Chambertin, our Chateau Lafitte is said often -to come from the vineyards of Jersey City and the generous hillsides -of Brooklyn; and we might perhaps quote from the famous song of "The -Canal":-- - - "The tradesmen who in liquor deal, - Of our Canal good use can make; - And when they mean their casks to fill, - They oft its water freely take. - - By this device they render less - The ills that spring from drunkenness; - For harmless is the wine, you'll own, - From vines that in canals is grown." - -A large proportion of the so-called foreign wines sold in America are -of American manufacture. The medium grade clarets and so-called -Sauternes are made in California, in great quantities. Our Senator, -Leland Stanford, makes excellent wines. On the islands of Lake Erie, -the lake region of Central New York, and along the banks of the Ohio -and Missouri Rivers, are vineyards producing excellent wines. An -honest American wine is an excellent thing to drink; and yet it -disgusted Commodore McVicker, who was entertained in London as -President of our Yacht Club, to be asked to drink American wines. Yet -the Catawbas, "dulcet, delicious and creamy," are not to be despised; -neither are the sweet and dry California growths. - -The indigenous wines which come from Ohio, Iowa, Missouri and -Mississippi are likely to be musty and foxy, and are not pleasant to -an American taste. The Catawbas are pleasant, and are of three -colours,--rose colour, straw colour, and colourless, if that be a -colour. In taste they are like sparkling Moselle, but fuller to the -palate. - -The wine produced from the Isabella grape is of a decided raspberry -flavour. The finest American wines are those produced from the vines -known as Norton's Virginia and the Cynthiana. The former produces a -well-blended, full-bodied, deep-coloured, aromatic, and almost -astringent wine; the second,--probably the finer of the two,--is a -darker, less astringent, and more delicate product. - -Among the American red wines may be mentioned the product of the -Schuylkill Muscadel, which was the only esteemed growth in the country -previous to the cultivation of the Catawba grape, being in fact -ambitiously compared to the _crus_ of the Gironde. It was a bitter, -acidulous wine, little suited to the American palate, and invariably -requiring an addition of either sugar or alcohol. - -Longfellow sings of the wine of the Mustang grape of Texas and New -Mexico:-- - - "The fiery flood - Of whose purple blood - Has a dash of Spanish bravado." - -The Carolina Scuppernong is detestable, reminding us of the sweet and -bitter medicines of childhood. The Herbemont, a rose-tinted wine is -very like Spanish Manganilla. - -Longfellow says of sparkling Catawba, that it "fills the room with a -benison on the giver." It has, indeed, a charming bouquet, as says the -poet. - -The name of Nicholas Longworth is intimately connected with the -subject of American wines. To him will ever be given all honour, as -being the father of this industry in the New World; but the superior -excellence of the California wines has driven the New York and Ohio -wines, it is said, to a second place in the market. - -In the expositions of 1889 at Paris, and in Melbourne, silver medals -were awarded to the Inglenook wines, which are of the red claret, -burgundy and Medoc type; also white wines,--Sauterne Chasselas, and -Hock, Chablis, Riesling, etc. - -The right soil for the cultivation of the grape is a hard thing to -find; but Captain Niebaum, a rich California grower, has hit the -key-note, when he says, "I have no wish to make any money out of my -vineyard by producing a large quantity of wine at a cheap or moderate -price. I am going to make a California wine which, if it can be made, -will be worthily sought for by _connoisseurs_; and I am prepared to -spend all the money needed to accomplish that result." He says frankly -that he has not yet produced the best wine of which California is -capable, but that he has succeeded in producing a better wine than -many of the foreign wines sold in America. He might have added that -hogsheads of California grape-juice are sent annually to Bordeaux to -be doctored, and returned to America as French claret. - -The misfortunes of the vine-grower in Europe, the ruin of acres of -grape-producing country by the phyloxera, should be the opportunity -for these new vine-growers in the United States. It is only by travel, -experiment, and by a close study of the methods of the foreign -wine-growers that a Californian can possibly make himself a vineyard -which shall be successful. He must induce Nature to sweeten his wines, -and he can then laugh at the chemist. - -Of vegetables we have not only all that Europe can boast, excepting -perhaps the artichoke, but we have some in constant use and of great -excellence which they have not. For instance, sweet corn boiled or -roasted and eaten from the cob with butter and salt is unknown in -Europe. They have not the sweet potato, so delicious when baked. They -have not the pumpkin-pie although they have the pumpkin. They have -egg-plant and cauliflower and beans and peas, but so have we. They -have bananas, but never fried, which is a negro dish, and excellent. -They have not the plantain, good baked, nor the avocado or alligator -pear, which fried in butter or oil is so admirable. They have not the -ochra, of which the negro cooks make such excellent gumbo soup. They -have all the salads, and use sorrel much more than we do. They do not -cook summer squash as we do, nor have they anything to equal it. They -use vegetables always as an _entree_, not served with the meat, unless -the vegetable is cooked with the meat, like beef stewed in carrots, -turnips, and onions, veal and green peas, veal with spinach, and so -on. The peas are passed as an _entree_, so is the cauliflower, the -beet-root, and the turnips. They treat all vegetables as we do corn -and asparagus, as a separate course. For asparagus we must give the -French the palm, particularly when they serve it with Hollandaise -sauce; and the Italians cook cauliflower with cheese, _a ravir_. - - - - -THE HOSTESS. - - "A creature not too bright or good - For human nature's daily food; - For transient sorrow, simple wiles, - Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles." - - -The "house-mother,"--the mistress of servants, the wife, the mother, -the hostess,--is the first person in the art of entertaining; and -considering how busy, how hard worked, how occupied, are American men, -she is generally the first person singular. In nine cases out of ten, -American men neither know nor care much about the conduct of the house -if the wife will assume it; they only like to be made comfortable, and -to find a warm, clean home, with a good dinner awaiting them. It is -the wife who must struggle with the problems of domestic defeat or -victory. - -When Washington Irving was presented at the Court of Dresden his Saxon -Majesty remarked, "Mr. Irving, with a republic so liberal, you can -have no servants in America." - -"Yes, Sire, we have servants, such as they are," said the amiable -author of the "Sketchbook;" "but we do not call them servants, we call -them help." - -"I cannot understand that," said the king. - -The king's mental position was not illogical; for, with his experience -of the servile position of the domestic in Europe, he could not -reconcile to his mind the declaration of social equality in America. - -The American hostess must, it would seem, for many centuries if not -forever, have to struggle against this difficulty. As some writer said -twenty years ago, of this question: "Rich as we are in money, profuse -in spending it to heighten the enjoyment of life, the good servant, -that essential of comfort and luxury, seems beyond our reach. -Superfine houses we have, and superfine furniture, and superfine -ladies, and all the other superfineties to excess, but the skilful -cook, the handy maid, and the trusty nurse we rarely possess." - -Thus, afar from the great cities and even in them, we must forge the -instruments with which we work, instead of finding them ready to hand, -as in other countries. That is to say, the mistress of a household -must teach her cook to cook, her waiter to wait, her laundress to get -up fine linen. She is happy if she can get honest people and willing -hands, but trained servants she durst not expect away from the great -centres of life. - -Considering what has been expected of the American woman, has she not -done rather well? That she must be first servant-trainer, then -housekeeper, wife, mother, and conversationist, that she must keep up -with the always advancing spirit of the times, read, write, and -cipher, be beautifully dressed, play the piano, make the wilderness to -blossom as the rose, be charitable, thoughtful, and good, put the mind -at its ease, strive to learn how to do all things in the best way, be -a student of good taste and good manners, make a house luxurious, -ornamental, cheerful, and restful, have an inspired sense of the -fitness of things, dress and entertain in perfect accord with her -station, her means, and her husband's ambition, master, unassisted, -all the ins and outs of the noble art of entertaining,--has not this -been something of the nature of a large contract? - -She must go to the cooking-lecture, come home and visit the kitchen, -go to the intelligence office, keeping her hand on all three. She must -be the mind, while the Maggies and Bridgets furnish the hands. She -must never be fussy, never grotesque; she must steer her ship through -stormy seas, and she must also learn to enjoy Wagner's music. There is -proverbially no sea so dangerous to swim in as that tumultuous one of -a new and illy regulated prosperity; and in the changeful, uncertain -nature of American fortunes an American woman must be ready to meet -any fate. - -Judging from many specimens which we have seen, may we not claim that -the American woman must be stamped with an especial distinction? Has -she not conquered her fate? - -Curiously enough, fashion and good taste seem to lackey to the -American woman, no matter where she was born or where educated. In -spite of all drawbacks, and the counter-currents of destiny, she is a -well bred and tasteful woman. No matter what the American woman has to -fight against, poverty or lack of opportunities, she is likely, if she -is called upon to do so, to administer gracefully the hospitalities of -the White House or to fill the difficult _role_ of an ambassadress. - -Some of them have bad taste perhaps. "What is good taste but an -instantaneous, ready appreciation of the fitness of things?" To most -of us who observe it in others, it seems to be an instinct. We envy -those few who are always well dressed, who never buy unbecoming -stuffs, who have the gift to make their clothes look as if they had -simply blossomed out of their inner consciousness, as a rose blossoms -out of its calyx. Some women always dress their hair becomingly; -others, even if handsome, look like beautiful frights. Some wear their -clothes as if they had been hurled at them by a tornado, and remind -one of the poor husband's remark, "I feel as if I had married a -hurricane." The same exceptions, which only prove the rule, because -you notice them, may extend to the housewives who aim at more than -they can accomplish, who make their house an anguish to look at, -pretentious without beauty, overloaded or incorrect, who have not -tact, who say the awkward thing. Such people exist sometimes, sinning -from ignorance, but they are decidedly in the minority. The American -woman is generally a success. She has fought a hard battle, but she -has won. She has had her defeats, however. - -Who does not remember the failure of that first dinner-party?--when -the baby began to cry so loud; when the hostess was not dressed when -the bell rang; when the cook spilled the soup all over the range and -filled the house with a bad odour; when the waitress, usually so cool, -lost all her presence of mind and fell on the basement stairs, -breaking all the plates; when one failure succeeded another until the -husband looked reproachfully at his wife, who, poor creature, had been -working day and night to get up this dinner, who was responsible for -none of the failures, and who had an attack of neuralgia afterward -which lasted all winter. - -Who has not read Thackeray's witty descriptions of the dinners, poor -and pretentious, ordered in from the green-grocer's, and -uneatable,--in London? "If they would have a leg of mutton and an -apple pudding and a glass of sherry, they could do well; but they must -shine, they must outdo their neighbours." And that is the first -mistake. People with three thousand a year should not try to emulate -those who have fifty thousand a year. - -And Thackeray says again: "But there is no harm done, not as regards -the dinner-givers, though the dinner-eaters may have to suffer. It -only shows that the former are hospitably inclined, and wish to do the -very best in their power. If they do badly, how can they help it? They -know no better." - -The first thing at which a young housekeeper must aim is to live well -every day. Her tablecloth must be fresh, her glass and silver clean; a -few flowers must be on her table to make it dainty, a few dishes well -cooked,--such a table as will be well for her children and acceptable -to her husband; and then she has but to add a little more and it is -fit for any guest, and any guest will be glad to join such a -dinner-party. - -But here I am met by the almost unanswerable argument that the -simplest dinner is the most difficult to find. Who knows how to cook a -beefsteak, to roast a piece of mutton so that its natural juices are -retained,--to roast it so that the blood shall follow the knife; to -mash potatoes and brown them; to make a perfect rice-pudding that is -said to "deserve that _cordon bleu_ which Vatel, Ude, and Bechamel -craved"? - -The young housekeeper of to-day with very modest means has, however, -now to meet a condition of prosperity which even twenty-five years ago -was unknown. All extremes of luxury and every element of profusion is -now fashionable,--one may say expected. - -But agreeable young people will be entertained by the man who is worth -fifty thousand dollars a day, and they will wish to return the -civility. Herein lie the difficulties in the art of entertaining; but -let them remember that there is one simple dinner which covers the -whole ground, which the poor gentleman may aspire to give, and to -which he might invite a prince. The essentials of a comfortable dinner -are but few. The beauty of a Grecian vase without ornament is perfect. -You may add cameo and intaglio, vine, acanthus leaf, satyrs, and -fauns, handles of ram's horns and circlet of gems to your vase if you -wish, and are rich enough, but unless the outline is perfect the -splendour and the arabesque but render the vase vulgar. So with the -simple dinner; it is the Grecian vase unadorned. - -Remember that rich people, stifled with luxury at home, like to be -asked to these dinners. A lady in England, very much admired for her -witty conversation, said she intended to devote herself to the -amelioration of the condition of the upper classes, as she thought -them the most bored and altogether the least attended to of any -people; and we have heard of the rich man in New York who complained -that he was no longer asked to the little dinners. There is too much -worship and fear of money in our country. In England and on the -Continent there is no shame in acknowledging, "I cannot afford it." I -have been asked to a luncheon in England where a cold joint of mutton, -a few potatoes, and a plate of peaches constituted the whole repast; -and I have heard more delightful conversation and have met more -agreeable people than at more expensive feasts. Who in America would -dare to give such a lunch? - -The simple dinner might be characterized, giving the essentials, as a -soup, a fish, a roast, one _entree_, and a salad, an ice and fruit -(simply the fruit in season), a cup of coffee afterward, with a glass -of sherry, claret, or champagne. Such a dinner is good enough for -anybody, and is possible to the person of moderate means. - -From this up to the splendid dinners of millionnaires, served on gold -and silver and priceless Sevres, Dresden, Japanese, and Chinese -porcelain, with flagons of ruby glass bound in gold, with Benvenuto -Cellini vases, and silver candelabra, the ascent may be gradual. In -the one the tablecloth is of spotless damask; in the other it may be -of duchesse lace over red. The very mats are mirrors, the crystal -drops of the epergne flash like diamonds. It may be served in a -picture-gallery. Each lady has a bouquet, a fan, a ribbon painted with -her name, a basket or _bonbonniere_ to take home with her. The courses -are often sixteen in number, the wines are of fabulous value, -antiquity, and age. Each drop is like the River Pactolus, whose sands -were of gold. The viands may come from Algiers or St. Petersburg; -strawberries and peaches in January, the roses of June in February, -fruit from the Pacific, from the Gulf, artichokes from Marseilles, -oranges and strawberries from Florida, game from Arizona and -Chesapeake Bay, mutton and pheasants from Scotland, luxury from -everywhere. The primal condition of this banquet is, that everything -should be unusual. - -But remember that, after all, it is only the Grecian vase heavily -ornamented. No one person can taste half the dishes; it takes a long -time, and the room may be too hot. The limitations of a dinner should -be considered. It is a splendid picture, no doubt, but it need not -appall the young hostess who desires to return the civility. - -A vase of flowers or a basket of growing plants can replace the -epergne. Some pretty dinner-cards may be etched by herself, with a -Shakspearean quotation showing a personal thought of each guest. Her -spotless glass and silver, her good soup, her fresh fish, the haunch -of venison roasted before a wood fire, the salad mixed by her own fair -hands, perhaps a dessert over which she has lingered, a bit of cheese, -a cup of coffee, a smiling host, a composed hostess, a congenial -company, and wit withal,--who shall say that the little dinner is not -as amusing as the big dinner? To be composed: yes, that is the first -thing to be remembered on the part of a young hostess. She may be -essentially nervous and anxious, particularly if she is just beginning -to entertain, but here she must resolutely put on a mask of composure, -and assume a virtue if she have it not. Nothing is of much importance, -excepting her own demeanor. A fussy hostess who scolds the servants, -wrinkles her brow, or even forgets to listen to the man who is talking -to her is the ruin of a dinner. The author of "Cecil" tells his niece -that if stewed puppy-dog is brought to the table she must not notice -it. Few hostesses are subjected to so severe an ordeal as this, but -the remark contains a goodly hint. - -As, however, it is a great intellectual feat to achieve a perfect -little dinner with a small household and small means, perhaps that -form of entertaining may be postponed a few years. Never attempt -anything which cannot be well done. There is the afternoon tea, the -musical evening, the reception, the luncheon; they are all easier to -give than the dinner. The young hostess ambitious to excel in the art -of entertaining can choose a thousand ways. Let her alone avoid -attempting the impossible; and let her remember that no success which -is not honestly gained is worth a pin. If it is money, it stings; if -it is place and position, it becomes the shirt of Nessus. - -But for the well mannered and well behaved American woman what a noble -success, what a perfect present, what a delightful future there is! -She is the founder of the American nobility. All men bow down to her. -She is the queen of the man who loves her; he treats her with every -respect. She is to teach the future citizen honour, loyalty, duty, -respect, politeness, kindness, the law of love. Such a man could read -his Philip Sidney and yet not blush to find himself a follower. An -American woman wields the only rod of empire to which American men -will bow. She should try to be an empress in the best sense of the -word; and to a young woman entering society we should recommend a -certain exclusiveness. Not snobbish exclusiveness; but it is always -well to choose one's friends slowly and with due consideration. We are -not the most perfect beings in all the world; we do not wish to be -intimate with too much imperfection. A broken friendship is a very -painful thing. We should think twice before we give an intimate -friendship to any one. No woman who essays to entertain should ask -everybody to her house. The respect she owes to herself should prevent -this; her house becomes a camp unless she has herself the power of -putting a coarse sieve outside the door. - -We have no such inviolable virtue that we can as yet rate Dives and -Lazarus before they are dead. Very rich people are apt to be very good -people; and in the realms of the highest fashion we find the simplest, -best, and purest of characters. It is therefore of no consequence as -to the shade of fashion and the amount of the rent-roll. It must not -be supposed because some leaders of fashion are insolent that all are. -A young hostess must try to find the good, true, honourable, generous, -well bred, well educated member of society, no matter in what -conditions of life. Read character first, and hesitate before drawing -general deductions. - -A hostess is the slave of her guests after she has invited them; she -must be all attention, and all suavity. If she has nothing to offer -them but a small house, a cup of tea, and a smile, she is just as much -a hostess as if she were a queen. If she offers them every luxury and -is not polite, she is a snob and a vulgarian. There is no such -detestable use of one's privileges as to be rude on one's ground. "The -man who eats your salt is sacred." To patronize is a great necessity -to some natures. There is little opportunity for it in free, brave -America, but some mistaken hostesses have gone that way. Every one -feels pleasantly toward the woman who invites one to her house; there -is something gracious in the act. But if, after opening her doors, the -hostess refuses the welcome, or treats her guests with various degrees -of cordiality, why did she ask at all? Every young American can become -a model hostess; she can master etiquette, and create for herself a -polite and cordial manner. She should be as serene as a summer's day; -she should keep all her domestic troubles out of sight. If she -entertains, let her do it in her own individual way,--a small way if -necessary. There was much in Touchstone's philosophy,--"a poor thing, -but mine own." She must have the instinct of hospitality, which is to -give pleasure to all one's guests; and it seems unnecessary to say to -any young American hostess, _Noblesse oblige_. She should be more -polite to the shy, ill-dressed visitor from the country--if indeed -there is such a thing left in America, where, as Bret Harte says, "The -fashions travel by telegraph"--than to the sweeping city dame, that -can take care of herself. A kindly greeting to a gawky youth will -never be forgotten; and it is to the humblest that a hostess should -address her kindest attentions. - -There are born hostesses, like poets, but a hostess can also be made, -in which she has the advantage of the poets; and to the very wealthy -hostess we should quote this inestimable advice:-- - - Si tibi deficiant medici, medici tibi fiant - Haec tria: mens hilaris, requies, moderata diaeta. - HORACE. - -Do not over-feed people. Who is it that says, "If simplicity is -admirable in manners and in literary style, in the matter of dinners -it becomes exalted into one of the cardinal virtues"? - -The ambitious housewife would do well to remember this when she -cumbers herself, and thinks too much about her forthcoming banquet. If -she ignores this principle of simplicity and falls into the opposite -extreme of ostentation and pretentiousness, she may bore her guests -rather than entertain them. - -It is an incontestable fact that dinners are made elaborate only at a -considerable risk; as they increase in size and importance, their -character is likely to deteriorate. This is true not only with regard -to the number of guests, but with reference to the number of dishes -that go to make up a bill-of-fare. - -In fact we, as Americans, generally err on the side of having too much -rather than too little. The terror of running short is agony to the -mind of the conscientious housewife. How much will be enough and no -more? It stands to reason that the fewer the dishes, the more the cook -can concentrate her attention upon them; and here is reason for -reducing the _menu_ to its lowest terms. Then to consult the proper -gradation. - -Brillat Savarin recounts a rather cruel joke perpetrated on a man who -was a well-known gourmand. The idea was that he should be induced to -satisfy himself with the more ordinary viands, and that then the -choicest dishes should be presented in vain before his jaded appetite. -This treacherous feast began with a sirloin of beef, a fricandeau of -veal, and a stewed carp with stuffing. Then came a magnificent turkey, -a pike, six _entremets_, and an ample dish of macaroni and Parmesan -cheese. Nor was this all. Another course appeared, composed of -sweetbread, surrounded with shrimps in jelly, soft roes, and partridge -wings, with a thick sauce or _puree_ of mushrooms. Last of all came -the delicacies,--snipes by the dozen, a pheasant in perfect order, and -with them a slice of tunny fish, quite fresh. Naturally, the gourmand -was _hors du combat_. As a joke, it was successful; as an act of -hospitality, it was a cruelty; as pointing a moral and adorning a -tale, it may be useful. - -This anecdote has its historical value as showing us that the present -procession of soup, fish, roast, _entree_, game, and dessert was not -observed one hundred years ago, as a fish was served after beef and -after turkey. - -Dr. Johnson describes a dinner at Mrs. Thrales which shows us what was -considered luxurious a hundred years ago. "The dinner was excellent. -First course: soups at head and foot, removed by fish and a saddle of -mutton. Second course: a fowl they call galenan at head, a capon -larger than our Irish turkeys at foot. Third course: four different -ices,--pineapple, grape, raspberry, and a fourth. In each remove four -dishes; the first two courses served on massive plate." - -These "gentlemen of England who live at home at ease," these earls by -the king's grace, viceroys of India, clerks and rich commoners, would -laugh at this dinner to-day; so would our clubmen, our diners at -Delmonico's, our millionnaires. Imagine the feelings of that _chef_ -who received ten thousand a year, with absolute power of life or -death, with a wine-cellar which is a fortress of which he alone knows -the weakest spot,--what would he say to such a dinner? - -But there are dinners where the gradation is perfect, where luxury -stimulates the brain as Chateau Yquem bathes the throat. It would seem -as if the Golden Age, the age of Leo X. had come back; and our -nineteenth century shows all the virtues of the art of entertaining -since the days of Lucullus, purified of the enormities, including -dining at eleven in the morning, of the intermediate ages. - -It must not be forgotten that this simplicity which is so commended -can only be obtained by the most studied, artful care. As Gray's Elegy -reads as the most consummately easy and plain poetry in the world, so -that we feel that we have but to sit down at the writing-desk and -indite one exactly like it, we learn in giving a little, simple, -perfect dinner that its combinations must be faultless. Gray wrote -every verse of his immortal poem over many times. The hostess who -learns enough art to conceal art in her simple dinner has achieved -that perfection in her art which Gray reached. Perfect and simple -cookery are, like perfect beauty, very rare. - -However, if the art of entertaining makes hostesses, hostesses must -make the art of entertaining. It is for them to decide the _juste -milieu_ between the _not enough_ and the great _too much_. - - - - -BREAKFAST. - - Before breakfast a man feels but queasily, - And a sinking at the lower abdomen - Begins the day with indifferent omen. - BROWNING.--_The Flight of the Duchess._ - - And then to breakfast with what appetite you have. - SHAKSPEARE. - - -Breakfast is a hard thing to manage in America, particularly in a -country-house, as people have different ideas about eating a hearty -meal at nine o'clock or earlier. All who have lived much in Europe are -apt to prefer the Continental fashion of a cup of tea or coffee in -one's room, with perhaps an egg and a roll; then to do one's work or -pleasure, as the case may be, and to take the _dejeuner a la -fourchette_ at eleven or twelve. To most brain-workers this is a -blessed boon, for the heavy American breakfast of chops, steaks, eggs, -forcemeat balls, sausages, broiled chicken, stewed potatoes, baked -beans, and hot cakes, good as it is, is apt to render a person stupid. - -It would be better if this meal could be rendered less heavy, and that -a visitor should always be given the alternative of taking a cup of -tea in her room, and not appearing until luncheon. - -The breakfast dishes most to be commended may begin with the omelet. -This the French make to perfection. Indeed, Gustav Droz wrote a story -once for the purpose of giving its recipe. The story is of a young -couple lost in a forest, who take refuge in a wood-cutter's hut. They -ask for food, and are told that they can have an omelet: - -"The old woman had gone to fetch a frying-pan, and was then throwing a -handful of shavings on the fire. - -"In the midst of this strange and rude interior Louise seemed to me so -fine and delicate, so elegant, with her long _gants de Suede_, her -little boots, and her tucked-up skirts. With her two hands stretched -out she sheltered her face from the flames, and from the corner of her -eye, while I was talking with the splitters, she watched the butter -that began to sing in the frying-pan. - -"Suddenly she rose, and taking the handle of the frying-pan from the -old woman's hand, 'Let me help you make the omelet,' she said. The -good woman let go the pan with a smile, and Louise found herself alone -in the position of a fisherman at the moment when his float begins to -bob. The fire hardly threw any light; her eyes were fixed on the -liquid butter, her arms outstretched, and she was biting her lips a -little, doubtless to increase her strength. - -"'It is a bit heavy for Madame's little hands,' said the old man. 'I -bet that it is the first time you ever made an omelet in a -wood-cutter's hut, is it not, my little lady?' - -"Louise made a sign of assent without removing her eyes from the -frying-pan. - -"'The eggs! the eggs!' she cried all at once, with such an expression -of alarm that we all burst out laughing. 'The eggs! the butter is -bubbling! quick, quick!' - -"The old woman was beating the eggs with animation. 'And the herbs!' -cried the old man. 'And the bacon, and the salt,' said the young man. -Then we all set to work, chopping the herbs and cutting the bacon, -while Louise cried, 'Quick! quick!' - -"At last there was a big splash in the frying-pan, and the great act -began. We all stood around the fire watching anxiously, for each -having had a finger in the pie, the result interested us all. The good -old woman, kneeling down by the dish, lifted up with her knife the -corners of the omelet, which was beginning to brown. - -"'Now Madame has only to turn it,' said the old woman. - -"'A little sharp jerk,' said the old man. - -"'Not too strong,' said the young man. - -"'One jerk! houp! my dear,' said I. - -"'If you all speak at once I shall never dare; besides, it is very -heavy, you know--' - -"'One little sharp jerk--' - -"'But I cannot--it will all go into the fire--oh!' - -"In the heat of the action her hood had fallen; she was red as a -peach, her eyes glistened, and in spite of her anxiety, she burst out -laughing. At last, after a supreme effort, the frying-pan executed a -rapid movement and the omelette rolled, a little heavily I must -confess, on the large plate which the old woman held. - -"Never was there a finer-looking omelet." - -This is an excellent description of the dish which is made for you at -every little _cabaret_ in France, as well as at the best hotels. That -dexterous turn of the wrist by which the omelet is turned over is, -however, hard to reach. Let any lady try it. I have been taken into -the kitchen in a hotel in the Riviera to see a cook who was so -dexterous as to turn the frying-pan over entirely, without spilling -the omelet. - -However, they are innumerable, the omelet family, plain, and with -parsley, the fancy omelet, and the creamy omelet. Learn to make every -sort from any cooking-book, and your family will never starve. - -Conquer the art of toasting bacon with a fork; it is a fine relish for -your egg, no matter how cooked. To fry good English bacon in a pan -until it is hard, is to disfigure one of Fortune's best gifts. - -Study above all things to learn how to produce good toast; not all the -cooks in the great kingdom or empire or republic of France (whatever -it may be at this minute) can produce a good slice of toast. They call -it _pain roti_, and well they may; for after the poor bread has been -burned they put it in the oven and roast it. No human being can eat -it. It is taken away and grated up for sawdust. - -They make delicious toast in England, and in a few houses in America. -The bread should be a little stale, the slice cut thin, the fire -perfect, a toasting-fork should hold it before coals, which are as -bright as Juno's eyes. It should be a delicate brown, dropped on a hot -plate, fresh butter put on at once, and then, ah! 't would tempt the -dying anchorite to eat. Then conquer cream toast; and there is an -exalted substance called Boston brown bread which is delicious, -toasted and boiled in milk. - -Muffins are generally failures in these United States. Why, after -conquering the English, we cannot conquer their muffins, I do not -know. They are well worth repeated efforts. We make up on our hot -biscuits and rolls; and as for our waffles, griddle-cakes, and Sally -Lunns, we distance competition. Do not believe that they are -unhealthy! Nothing that is well cooked is unhealthy to everybody; and -all things which are good are unhealthy to somebody. Every one must -determine for himself what is healthy and unhealthy. - -A foreign breakfast in France consists of eggs in some -form,--frequently _au beurre noir_, which is butter melted in a little -vinegar and allowed to brown,--a stew of vegetables and meat, a little -cold meat (tongue, ham, or cold roast beef,) a very good salad, a -small dish of stewed fruit or a little pastry, cheese, fruit, and -coffee, and always red wine. - -Or perhaps an omelet or egg _au plat_ (simply dropped on a hot plate), -mutton cutlets, and fried potatoes, perhaps stewed pigeons, with -spinach or green peas, or trout from the lake, followed by a -beefsteak, with highly flavoured Alpine strawberries or fresh apricots -or figs, then all eating is done for the day, until seven o'clock -dinner. This is of course the mid-day _dejeuner a la fourchette_. At -the earlier breakfast a Swiss hotel offers only coffee, rolls, butter, -and honey. - -All sorts of stews--kidney, liver, chicken, veal, and beef--are good, -and every sort of little pan-fish. In our happy country we can add the -oyster stew, or the lobster in cream, the familiar sausage, and the -hereditary hash; if any one knows how to make good corned-beef hash -she need not fear to entertain the king. - -There are those who know how to broil a chicken, but they are -few,--"Amongst the few, the immortal names which are not born to die." -There are others, also few, who know how to broil ham so that it will -not be hard, and on it to drop the egg so that it be like Saturn,--a -golden ball in a ring of silver. - -Amongst the good dishes and cheap dishes which I have seen served in -France for a breakfast I recommend lambs' feet in a white sauce, with -a suspicion of onion. - -All sorts of fricassees and warmed over things can be made most -deliciously for breakfast. Many people like a salt mackerel or a -broiled herring for breakfast; these are good _avant gouts_, -stimulating the appetite. The Danes and Swedes have every form of -dried fish, and even some strange fowl served in this way. Dried beef -served up with eggs is comforting to some stomachs. Smoked salmon -appeals to others; and people with an ostrich digestion like toasted -cheese or Welsh rarebits. The fishball of our forefathers is a supreme -delicacy if well made, as is creamed codfish; but warmed over pie, or -warmed over mutton or beef, are detestable. The appetite is in a -parlous state at nine o'clock and needs to be tempted; a bit of -breakfast bacon, a bit of toast, an egg, and a fresh slice of melon or -a cold sliced tomato in summer, _voila tout!_ as the French say. Begin -with the melon or a plate of strawberries. These early breakfasts at -nine o'clock may be followed by the hot cake, but later on the -_dejeuner a la fourchette_, which with us becomes luncheon, demands -another order of meal, as we have seen, more like a plain dinner. - -It is a great comfort to the housekeeper, or to the lady who has been -imprisoned behind the tea and coffee pot that she may serve thence a -large family, to sometimes escape and have both tea and coffee served -from the side tables. Of course, for a small and intimate breakfast -there is nothing like the "steaming urn," and the tea made by the lady -at the table; and the Hon. Thomas H. Benton declared that he "liked to -drink his tea from a cup which had been washed by a lady." Woman is -the genius of the tea-kettle. - -To make a good cup of coffee is a rare accomplishment. Perhaps the old -method is as good as any: a small cupful of roasted and ground -coffee, one third Mocha and two thirds Java, a small egg, shell and -all, broken into the pot with the dry coffee. Stir well with a spoon -and then pour on three pints of boiling water; let it boil from five -to ten minutes, counting from the time it begins to boil. Then pour in -a cupful of cold water, and turn a little of the coffee into a cup to -see that the nozzle of the pot is not filled with grounds. Turn this -back, and let the coffee stand a few minutes to settle, taking care -that it does not boil again. The advantages of boiled egg with coffee -is, that the yolk gives a rich flavour and good colour; also the -shells and the white keep the grounds in order, settling them at the -bottom of the pot. - -But the most economical and the easiest way of making coffee is by -filtering. The French coffee biggin should be used. It consists of two -cylindrical tin vessels, one fitting into the other, the bottom of the -upper being a fine strainer. Another coarser strainer, with a rod -coming from the centre, is placed on this. Then the coffee, which must -be finely ground, is put in, and another strainer is placed on the top -of the rod. The boiling water is poured on, and the pot set where it -will keep hot, but not boil, until the water has gone through. This -will make a clear, strong coffee with a rich, smooth flavour. - -The advantage of the two strainers is, that the one coming next to the -fine strainer prevents the grounds from filling up the fine holes, and -so the coffee is clear,--a grand desideratum. Boiled milk should be -served with coffee for an early breakfast. Clear coffee, _cafe noir_, -is served after dinner, and in France, always after the twelve o'clock -breakfast. - -For a nine o'clock breakfast the hostess should also serve tea, and -perhaps chocolate, if she has a large family of guests, as all cannot -drink coffee for breakfast. - -Pigs' feet _a la poulette_ find favour in Paris, and are delicious as -prepared there; also calf's liver _a l'Alsacienne_. Chicken livers are -very nice, and cod's tongues with black butter cannot be surpassed. -Mutton kidneys with bacon are desirable, and all the livers and -kidneys _en brochette_ with bacon, empaled on a spit, are excellent. -Hashed lamb _a la Zingara_ is highly peppered and very good. - -Broiled fish, broiled chicken, broiled ham, broiled steak and chops -are always good for breakfast. The gridiron made Saint Lawrence fit -for heaven, and its qualities have been elevating and refining ever -since. - -The summer breakfast can be very nice. Crab, clam, lobster,--all are -admirable. Fresh fish should be served whenever one can get it. -Devilled kidneys and broiled bones do for supper, but fresh fish and -easily digested food should replace these heavier dainties for -breakfast. - -Stewed fruit is much used on the Continent at an early breakfast. It -is thought to avert dyspepsia. Americans prefer to eat fruit fresh, -and therefore have not learned to stew it. Stewing is, however, a -branch of cookery well worth the attention of a first-class -housekeeper. It makes canned fruit much better to stew it with sugar. -Stewed cherries are delicious and very healthy; and all the berries, -even if a little stale, can be stewed into a good dish, as can the -dried fruits, like prunes, etc. - -Stewed pears make an elegant dessert served with whipped cream; but -this is too rich for breakfast. Baked pears with cream are sometimes -offered, and eggs in every form,--scrambled, dropped, boiled, stuffed, -and even boiled hard, sliced and dressed as a salad. "What is so good -as an egg salad for a hungry person?" asked a hostess in the -Adirondacks who had nothing else to offer! Eggs are the staple for -breakfast. - -Ham omelet with a little parsley, lamb chops with green peas, tripe _a -la Bourdelaise_, hashed turkey, hashed chicken with cream, and breaded -veal with tomato sauce, calf's brains with a black butter, stewed veal -_a la Chasseur_, broiled shad's roe, broiled soft-shell clams, minced -tenderloin with Lyonnaise potatoes, blue-fish _au gratin_, broiled -steak with water-cress, picked-up codfish, and smoked beef in cream -are of the thousand and one delicacies for the early breakfast,--if -one can eat them. - -It is better to eat a saucer of oatmeal and cream at nine o'clock, -take a cup of tea, and do one's work; then at twelve to sit down to as -good a breakfast as possible,--a regular _dejeuner a la fourchette_. -The digestion is then active; the brain after several hours work needs -repose, and at one or two o'clock can go to work again like a giant -refreshed. - -An early breakfast with meat is thought by foreign doctors not to -be good for children. But in France they give children wine at -a very early age, which is rarely done in this country. At all -boarding-schools and hospitals wine is given to young children. -Certainly there are fewer drunkards and fewer dyspeptics in France -than in America. - -Brillat Savarin says of coffee, "It is beyond doubt that coffee acts -upon the functions of the brain as an excitant." Voltaire and Buffon -drank a great deal of coffee. If it deprives persons of sleep it -should never be taken. It is to many a poison; and hospitals are full -of men made cripples by the immoderate stimulus of coffee. The Spanish -people live and flourish on chocolate; introduced into Spain during -the seventeenth century, it crossed the Pyrenees with Anne of Austria, -daughter of Philip II. and wife of Louis XIII., and at the -commencement of the Regency was more in vogue than coffee. - -Many modern writers advise a good cup of chocolate at breakfast as -wholesome and easily digested, and it is good for clergymen, lawyers, -and travellers. In America it is considered heavy and headachy; and -doubtless the climate has something to do with this. Cocoa and the -lighter preparations of chocolate are good at sea, and very comforting -to those who find their nerves too much on the alert to stand coffee -or tea. Every one must consult his own health and taste in this as in -all matters. - -The boldest attempts to increase the enjoyments of the palate, or to -tell people what they shall eat or drink, are constantly overthrown by -some subtile enemy in the stomach; and breakfasts should especially be -so light that they can tickle the palate without disturbing the brain. -A red herring is a good appetizer. - - "Meet me at breakfast alone, - And then I will give you a dish - Which really deserves to be known, - Though 'tis not the genteelest of fish. - You must promise to come, for I said - A splendid red herring I'd buy. - Nay, turn not aside your proud head; - You'll like it, I know, when you try. - - "If moisture the herring betray, - Drain till from the moisture 'tis free. - Warm it through in the usual way, - Then serve it for you and for me. - A piece of cold butter prepare, - To rub it when ready it lies; - Egg sauce and potatoes don't spare, - And the flavour will cause you surprise." - -It is not only the man who has eaten a heavy supper the night before; -it is not only the heavy drinker, although brandy and soda are not the -best of appetite provokers, so they say; but it is also the -brainworker who finds it impossible to eat in the morning. For sleep -has the effect of eating. Who sleeps, eats, says the French proverb; -and we often find healthy children unwilling to eat an early -breakfast. Appetites vary both in individuals and at various seasons -of the year. Nothing can be more unwise than to make children eat when -they do not wish to do so. During the summer months we are all of us -less inclined for food than when sharp set by hard exercise in the -frosty air; and we loathe in July what we like in winter. - -The heavy domestic breakfast of steak and mutton-chops in summer is -often repellent to a delicate child. The perfection of good living is -to have what you want exactly when you want it. A slice of fresh -melon, a plate of strawberries, a thin slice of bread and butter may -be much better for breakfast in summer than the baked beans and stewed -codfish of a later season. Do not force a child to eat even a baked -potato if he does not like it. - -It is maintained by some that a strong will can keep off sea-sickness -or any other malady. This is a fallacy. No strong will can make a -delicate stomach digest a heavy breakfast at nine o'clock. Therefore -we begin and end with the same idea,--breakfast is a hard thing to -manage in America. - -In England, however, it is a very happy-go-lucky meal; and although -the essentials are on the table, people are privileged to rise and -help themselves from the sideboard. I may say that I have never seen a -fashionable English hostess at a nine o'clock breakfast, although the -meal is always ready for those who wish it. - -For sending breakfasts to rooms, trays are prepared with teapot, -sugar, and cream, a plate of toast, eggs boiled, with cup, spoon, salt -and pepper, a little pat of butter, and if desired a plate of chops or -chicken, plates, knives, forks, and napkins. For an English -country-house the supply of breakfast trays is like that of a hotel. -The pretty little Satsuma sets of small teapot, cream jug, and -sugar-bowl, are favourites. - -When breakfast is served in the dining-room, a white cloth is -generally laid, although some ladies prefer variously coloured linen, -with napkins to match. A vase of flowers or a dish of fruit should be -placed in the centre. The table is then set as for dinner, with -smaller plates and all sorts of pretty china, like an egg dish with a -hen sitting contentedly, a butter plate with a recumbent cow, a -sardine dish with fishes in Majolica,--in fact, any suggestive fancy. -Hot plates for a winter breakfast in a plate-warmer near the table add -much to the comfort. - -Finger bowls with napkins under them should be placed on the sideboard -and handed to the guest with the fruit. It is a matter of taste as to -whether fruit precedes or finishes the breakfast; and the servant must -watch the decision of the guest. - -A grand breakfast to a distinguished foreigner, or some great home -celebrity at Delmonico's for instance, would be,-- - - A table loaded with flowers. - Oysters on the half-shell. Chablis. - Eggs stuffed. Eggs in black butter, (_au beurre noir_). - Chops and green peas. Champagne. - Lyonnaise potatoes. - Sweetbreads. Spinach. - Woodcock. Partridges. - Salad of lettuce. Claret. - Cheese _fondu_. - DESSERT: - Charlotte Russe. Fruit Jelly. Ices. - Liqueurs. - Grapes. Peaches. Pears. - Coffee. - -A breakfast even at twelve o'clock is thus made noticeably lighter -than the meal called lunch. It may be introduced by clam juice in -cups, or bouillon, but is often served without either. These -breakfasts are generally prefaced by a short reception, where all the -guests are presented to the foreigner of distinction. There is no -formality about leaving. Indeed, these breakfasts are given in order -to avoid that. - -For an ordinary breakfast at nine o'clock in a family of ten, we -should say that the _menu_ should be something as follows: The host -and hostess being present, the lady makes the tea. Oatmeal and cream -would then be offered; after that a broiled chicken would be placed -before the host, which he carves if he can. An omelet is placed before -the lady or passed; stewed potatoes are passed, and toast or muffins. -Hot cakes finish this breakfast, unless fruit is also added. It is -considered a very healthful thing to eat an orange before breakfast. -But who can eat an orange well? One must go to Spain to see that -done. The senorita cuts off the rind with her silver knife. Then -putting her fork into the peeled fruit, she gently detaches small -slices from the pulp, leaving the core and seeds untouched; passing -the fork upward, she detaches every morsel with her pearly teeth, -looking very pretty the while, and contrives to eat the whole orange -without losing a drop of the juice, and lays down the core with the -fork still in it. - -It seems hardly necessary to say to an American lady that she should -be neatly dressed at breakfast. The pretty white morning dresses which -are worn in America are rarely seen in Europe, perhaps because of the -difference of climate. In England elderly ladies and young married -women sometimes appear in very smart tea gowns of dark silk over a -colour; but almost always the young ladies come in the yachting or -tennis dresses which they will wear until dinner-time, and almost -always in summer, in hats. In America the variety of morning dresses -is endless, of which the dark jacket over a white vest, the -serviceable merino, the flannel, the dark foulards, are favourites. - -In summer, thin lawns, percales, Marseilles suits, calicos, and -ginghams can be so prettily made as to rival all the other costumes -for coquetry and grace. - - "Still to be neat, still to be drest - As she were going to a feast," - -such should be the breakfast dress of the young matron. It need not be -fine; it need not be expensive; but it should be neat and becoming. -The hair should be carefully arranged, and the feet either in good, -stout shoes for the subsequent walk, or in the natty stocking and well -fitting slipper, which has moved the poet to such feeling verses. - - - - -THE LUNCH. - - "A Gothic window, where a damask curtain - Made the blank daylight shadowy and uncertain; - A slab of agate on four eagle-talons - Held trimly up and neatly taught to balance; - A porcelain dish, o'er which in many a cluster - Plump grapes hung down, dead ripe, and without lustre; - A melon cut in thin, delicious slices, - A cake, that seemed mosaic-work in spices; - Two china cups, with golden tulips sunny, - And rich inside, with chocolate like honey; - And she and I the banquet scene completing - With dreamy words, and very pleasant eating." - - -If all lunches could be as poetic and as simple and as luxurious as -this, the hostess would have little trouble in giving a lunch. But, -alas! from the slice of cold ham, or chicken, and bread and butter, -has grown the grand hunt breakfast, and the ladies' lunch, most -delicious of luxurious time-killers. The lunch, therefore, has become -in the house of the opulent as elaborate as the dinner. - -Twenty years ago in England I had the pleasure of lunching with Lord -Houghton, and I well remember the simplicity of that meal. A cup of -bouillon, a joint of mutton, roasted, and carved by the host, a tart, -some peaches, very fine hot-house fruit, and a glass of sherry was all -that was served on a very plain table to twenty guests. But what a -company of wits, belles, and beauties we had to eat it! I once lunched -with Browning on a much simpler bill of fare. I have lunched at the -beautiful house of Sir John Millais on what might have been a good -family dinner with us. And I have lunched in Hampton Court, in the -apartments of Mr. Beresford, now dead, who was a friend of George the -Fourth and an old Tory whipper-in, on a slice of cold meat, a cutlet, -a gooseberry tart, and some strawberries as large as tomatoes from the -garden which was once Anne Boleyn's. - -What a great difference between these lunches and a ladies' lunch in -New York, which, laid for twenty-eight people, offers every kind of -wine, every luxury of fish, flesh, and fowl, flowers which exhibit the -most overwhelming luxury of an extravagant period, fruits and bonbons -and _bonbonnieres_, painted fans to carry home, with ribbons on which -is painted one's monogram, etc. - -I have seen summer wild-flowers in winter at a ladies' lunch, as the -last concession to a fancy for what is unusual. The order having been -given in September, the facile gardener raised these flowers for this -especial lunch. Far more expensive than roses at a dollar apiece is -this bringing of May into January. It is impossible to say where -luxury should stop; and, if people can afford it, there is no -necessity for its stopping. It is only to be regretted that luxury -frightens those who might like to give simple lunches. - -A lunch-party of ladies should not be crowded, as handsome gowns take -up a great deal of room; and therefore a lunch for ten ladies in a -moderate house is better than a larger number. As ladies always wear -their bonnets the room should not be too hot. - -The menu is very much the same as a dinner, excepting the soup. In its -place cups of bouillon or of clam juice, boiled with cream and a bit -of sherry, are placed before each plate. There follows presumably a -plate of lobster croquettes with a rich sauce, _filet de boeuf_ -with truffles and mushrooms, sweetbread and green peas, perhaps -asparagus or cauliflower. - -Then comes _sorbet_, or Roman punch, much needed to cool the palate -and to invigorate the appetite for further delicacies. The Roman punch -is now often served in very fanciful frozen shapes of ice, resembling -roses, or fruit of various kinds. If a lady is not near a confectioner -she should learn to make this herself. It is very easy, if one only -compounds it at first with care, Maraschino cordial or fine old -Jamaica rum being mixed with water and sugar as for a punch, and well -frozen. - -The game follows, and the salad. These two are often served together. -After that the ices and fruit. Cheese is rarely offered at a lady's -lunch, excepting in the form of cheese straws. Chateau Yquem, -champagne, and claret are the favourite wines. Cordial is offered -afterward with the coffee. A lady's lunch-party is supposed to begin -at one o'clock and end at three. - -It is a delightful way of showing all one's pretty things. At a -luncheon in New York I have seen a tablecloth of linen into which has -been inserted duchesse lace worth, doubtless, several hundred dollars, -the napkins all trimmed with duchesse, worth at least twenty dollars -apiece. This elegant drapery was thrown over a woollen broadcloth -underpiece of a pale lilac. - -In the middle of the table was a grand epergne of the time of Louis -Seize; the glass and china were superb. At the proper angle stood -silver and gold cups, ornamental pitchers, and claret jugs. At every -lady's plate stood a splendid bouquet tied with a long satin ribbon, -and various small favours, as fans and fanciful _menus_ were given. - -As the lunch went on we were treated to new surprises of napery and -of Sevres plates. The napkins became Russian, embroidered with gold -thread, as the spoons and forks were also of Russian silver and gold, -beautifully enamelled. Then came those embroidered with heraldic -animals,--the lion and the two-headed eagle and griffin,--the monogram -gracefully intertwined. - -Plates were used, apparently of solid gold and beautiful workmanship. -The Roman punch was hidden in the heart of a water lily, which looked -uncommonly innocent with its heart of fire. The service of this lunch -was so perfect that we did not see how we were served; it all moved as -if to music. Pleasant chat was the only addition which our hostess -left for us to add to her hospitality. I have lunched at many great -houses all over the world, but I have never seen so luxurious a -picture as this lunch was. - -It has been a question whether oysters on the half-shell should be -served at a lady's lunch. For my part I think that they should, -although many ladies prefer to begin with the bouillon. All sorts of -_hors d'oeuvres_, like olives, anchovies, and other relishes, are in -order. - -In summer, ladies sometimes serve a cold luncheon, beginning with iced -bouillon, salmon covered with a green sauce, cold birds and salads, -ices and strawberries, or peaches frozen in cream. Cold asparagus -dressed as a salad is very good at this meal. - -In English country-houses the luncheon is a very solid meal, beginning -with a stout roast with hot vegetables, while chicken salad, a cold -ham, and various meat pies stand on the sideboard. The gentlemen get -up and help the ladies; the servants, after going about once or twice, -often leave the room that conversation may be more free. - -It might well improve the young housekeeper to study the question of -potted meats, the preparation of Melton veal, the various egg salads, -as well as those of potato, of lobster and chicken, so that she may be -prepared with dishes for an improvised lunch. Particularly in the -country should this be done. - -The etiquette of invitations for a ladies' lunch is the same as that -of a dinner. They are sent out a fortnight before; they are carefully -engraved, or they are written on note paper. - - MRS. SOMERVILLE - Requests the pleasure of - MRS. MONTGOMERY'S - Company at lunch on Thursday, 15th, - at 1 o'clock. - R. S. V. P. - -This should be answered at once, and the whole engagement treated with -the gravity of a dinner engagement. - -These lunch-parties are very convenient for ladies who, from illness -or indisposition to society, cannot go out in the evening. It is also -very convenient if the lady of the house has a husband who does not -like society and who finds a dinner-party a bore. - -The usual custom is for ladies to dress in dark street dresses, and -their very best. That with an American lady means much, for an -American husband stops at no expense. Worth says that American women -are the best customers he has,--far better than queens. The latter ask -the price, and occasionally haggle; American women may ask the price, -but the order is, the very best you can do. - -Luncheons are very fashionable in England, especially on Sunday. These -lunches, although luxurious, are by no means the costly spreads which -American women indulge in. They are attended by gentlemen as well as -ladies, for in a land where a man does not go to the House of Commons -until five in the afternoon he may well lunch with his family. What -time did our forefathers lunch? In the reign of Francis the First the -polite French rose at five, dined at nine, supped at five, and went to -bed at nine. Froissart speaks of "waiting upon the Duke of Lancaster -at five in the afternoon after he had supped." If our ancestors dined -at nine, when did they lunch? - -After some centuries the dinner hour grew to be ten in the morning, by -which time they had besieged a town and burned up a dozen heretics, -probably to give them a good appetite, a sort of _avant gout_. The -later hours now in vogue did not prevail until after the Restoration. - -Lunch has remained fastened at one o'clock, for a number of years at -least. In England, curiously enough, they give you no napkins at this -meal, which certainly requires them. - -A hunt breakfast in America is, of course, a hearty meal, to which the -men and women are asked who have an idea of riding to hounds. It is -usually served at little tables, and the meal begins with hot -bouillon. It is a heartier meal than a lady's lunch, and as luxurious -as the hostess pleases; but it does not wind up with ices and fruits, -although it may begin with an orange. Much more wine is drunk than at -a lady's lunch, and yet some hunters prefer to begin the day with tea -only. Everything should be offered, and what is not liked can be -refused. - - "What is hit, is History, - And what is missed is Mystery." - -There are famous breakfasts in London which are not the early morning -meal, neither are they called luncheons. It is the constant habit of -the literary world of London to have reunions of scientific and -agreeable people early in the day, and what would be called a party in -the evening, is called a breakfast. We should call it a reception, -except that one is asked at eleven o'clock. But the greatest misnomer -of all is the habit in London of giving a dinner, a ball, and a supper -out of doors at five o'clock, and calling that a "breakfast." Except -that the gentlemen are in morning dress and the ladies in bonnets this -has no resemblance to what we call breakfast. - -Breakfast at nine, or earlier, is a solemn process. It has no great -meaning for us, who have our children to send to school, our husbands -to prepare for business, ourselves for a busy day or a long journey. -For the very luxurious it no longer exists. - -Luncheon on the contrary is apt to be a lively and exhilarating -occasion. It is the best moment in the day to some people. A thousand -dollars is not an unusual sum to expend on a lady's lunch in New York -for eighteen or twenty-five guests, counting the favours, the flowers, -the wines, and the viands, and even then we have not entered into the -cost of the china, the glass, porcelain, _cloisonne_, Dresden, Sevres, -and silver, which make the table a picture. The jewelled goblets from -Carlsbad, the knives and forks with crystal handles, set in silver, -from Bohemia, and the endless succession of beautiful plates,--who -shall estimate the cost of all this? - -As to the precedence of plates, it is meet that China, oldest of -nations, should suffice for the soup. The oysters have already been -served on shell-like Majolica. England, a maritime nation surrounded -by ocean, must furnish the plates for the fish. For the roast, too, -what plates so good as Doulton, real English, substantial _faience_? - -For the _Bouchers a la Reine_ and all the _entrees_ we must have -Sevres again. - -Japanese will do for the _filet aux champignons_, the venison, the -_pieces de resistance_, as well as English. Japanese plates are -strong. But here we are running into dinner; indeed, these two feasts -do run into each other. - -One should not have a roast at ladies' lunch, unless it be a roast -pheasant. - -Dresden china plates painted with fruits and flowers should be used -for the dessert. On these choice plates, with perforated edges marked -"A R" on the back, should lie the ices frozen as natural fruits. We -can scarcely tell the frozen banana or peach before us, from the -painted banana on our plate. - -For the candied fruit, we must again have Sevres. Then a gold dish -filled with rose-water must be passed. We dip a bit of the napkin in -it, for in this country we do have napkins with our luncheon, and wipe -our lips and fingers. This is called a _trempoir_. - -The cordials at the end of the dinner must be served in cups of -Russian gold filagree supporting glass. There is an analogy between -the rival, luscious richness of the cordial and the cup. - -The coffee-cups must be thin as egg-shells, of the most delicate -French or American china. We make most delicate china and porcelain -cups ourselves nowadays, at Newark, Trenton, and a dozen other places. - -There is a vast deal of waste in offering so much wine at a ladies' -lunch. American women cannot drink much wine; the climate forbids it. -We have not been brought up on beer, or on anything more stimulating -than ice-water. Foreign physicians say that this is the cause of all -our woes, our dyspepsia, our nervous exhaustion, our rheumatism and -hysteria. I believe that climate and constitution decide these things -for us. We are not prone to over-eat ourselves, to drink too much -wine; and if the absence of these grosser tastes is visible in pale -cheeks and thin arms, is not that better than the other extreme? - -All entertaining can go on perfectly well without wine, if people so -decide. It would be impossible, however, to make many poetical -quotations without an allusion to the "ruby," as Dick Swiveller called -it. Since Cleopatra dissolved the pearl, the wine-cup has held the -gems of human fancy. - - _Champagne Cup_: One pint bottle of soda water, one quart dry - champagne, one wine-glass of brandy, a few fresh strawberries, - a peach quartered, sugar to taste; cracked ice. - - _Another recipe_: One quart dry champagne, one pint bottle of - Rhine wine, fruit and ice as above; cracked ice. Mix in a - large pitcher. - - _Claret Cup_: One bottle of claret, one pint bottle of soda - water, one wine-glass brandy, half a wine-glass of - lemon-juice, half a pound of lump sugar, a few slices of fresh - cucumber; mix in cracked ice. - - _Mint Julep_: Fresh mint, a few drops of orange bitters and - Maraschino, a small glass of liqueur, brandy or whiskey, put - in a tumbler half full of broken ice; shake well, and serve - with fruit on top with straws. - - _Another recipe for Mint Julep_: Half a glass of port wine, a - few drops of Maraschino, mint, sugar, a thin slice of lemon, - shake the cracked ice from glass to glass, add strawberry or - pineapple. - - _Turkish Sherbets_: Extract by pressure or infusion the rich - juice and fine perfume of any of the odouriferous flowers or - fruits; mix them in any number or quantity to taste. When - these essences, extracts, or infusions are prepared they may - be immediately used by adding a proper proportion of sugar or - syrup; and water. Some acid fruits, such as lemon or - pomegranate, are used to raise the flavour, but not to - overpower the chief perfume. Fill the cup with cracked ice and - add what wine or spirit is preferred. - - _Claret Cobbler_: One bottle wine, one bottle Apollinaris or - Seltzer, one lemon, half a pound of sugar; serve with ice. - - _Champagne Cobbler_: One bottle of champagne, one half bottle - of white wine, much cracked ice, strawberries, peaches or - sliced oranges. - - _Sherry Cobbler_: Full wine-glass of sherry, very little - brandy, sugar, sliced lemon, cracked ice. This is but one - tumblerful. - - _Kuemmel_: This liqueur is very good served with shaved ice in - small green claret-cups. - - _Punch_: One bottle Arrack, one bottle brandy, two quart - bottles dry champagne, one tumblerful of orange curacoa, one - pound of cracked sugar, half a dozen lemons sliced, half a - dozen oranges sliced. Fill the bowl with large lump of ice and - add one quart of water. - - _Shandygaff_: London porter and ginger ale, half and half. - - - - -AFTERNOON TEA. - - "And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn - Throws up a steamy column, and the cups - That cheer but not inebriate wait on each, - So let us welcome peaceful evening in." - - -Whatever objections can be urged against all other systems of -entertaining, including the expense, the bore it is to a gentleman to -have his house turned inside out, the fatigue to the lady, the -disorganization of domestic service, nothing can be said against -afternoon tea, unless that it may lead to a new disease, the _delirium -teamens_. There is danger to nervous women in our climate in too great -indulgence in this delicious beverage. It sometimes murders sleep and -impairs digestion. We cannot claim that it is always safer than opium. -It was very much abused in England in 1678, ten years after Lords -Arlington and Ossory brought it over from the meditative Dutchman, who -was the first European to appreciate it. It was then called a "black -water with an acrid taste." It cost, however, in England sixty -shillings a pound, so that it must have been fashionable. Pepys in his -diary records that he sent for a cup of tea, a "China drink which he -had not used before." He did not like it, but then he did not like the -"Midsummer Night's Dream." "The most insipid, ridiculous play I ever -saw in my life," he writes; so we do not care what he thought about a -blessed cup of tea. - -In the middle of the sixteenth century, with pasties and ale for -breakfast, with sugared cakes and spiced wines at various hours of the -day, with solid "noonings," and suppers with strong potations of sack -and such possets as were the ordinary refreshments, it is not probable -that tea would have been appreciated. The Dutch were crafty, however; -they saw that there was a common need of a hot, rather stimulating -beverage, which had no intoxicating effects. They exported sage enough -to pay for the tea, and got the better of even the wily Chinaman, who -avowed some time after, in their trade with America, "That spent -tea-leaves, dried again, were good enough for second-chop Englishmen." - -Jonas Haunay wrote a treatise against tea-drinking in Johnson's time, -and that vast, insatiable, and shameless tea-drinker took up the -cudgels for tea, settling it as a brain-inspirer for all time, and -wrote Rasselas on the strength of it. Cobbett wrote against its use by -the labouring classes, and the "Edinburgh Review" endorsed his -arguments, stating that a "prohibition absolute and uncompromising of -the noxious beverage was the first step toward insuring health and -strength for the poor," and asserting that when a labourer fancied -himself refreshed with a mess of this stuff, sweetened with the -coarsest brown sugar and diluted by azure-blue milk, it was only the -warmth of the water which consoled him for the moment. Cobbett claimed -that the tea-table cost more to support than would keep two children -at nurse. - -The "Quarterly Review" in an article written perhaps by the most -famous chemist of the day, said, however, that "tea relieves the pains -of hunger rather by mechanical distention than by supplying the waste -of nature by adequate sustenance," but claimed for it the power of -calm, placid, and benignant exhilaration, greatly stimulating the -stomach, when fatigued by digestive exertion, and acting as an -appropriate diluent of the chyle. More recent inquiries into the -qualities of the peculiar power of tea have tended to raise it in -popular esteem, although no one has satisfactorily explained _why_ it -has become so universally necessary to the human race. - -An agreeable little book called "The Beverages We Indulge In," "The -Herbs Which We Infuse," or some such title, had a great deal to do -with the adoption of tea as a drink for young men who were training -for a boat-race, or who desired to economize their strength for a -mountain climb. But every one, from the tired washerwoman to the -student, the wrestler, the fine lady, and the strong man, demands a -cup of tea. - -To the invalid it is the dearest solace, dangerous though it may be. -Tannin, the astringent element in tea, is bad for delicate stomachs -and seems to ruin appetite. Tea, therefore, should never be allowed to -stand. Hot water poured on the leaves and poured off into a cup can -hardly afford the tannin time to get out. Some tea-drinkers even put -the grounds in a silver ball, perforated, and swing this through a cup -of boiling water, and in this way is produced the most delicate cup of -tea. - -The famous Chinese lyric which is painted on almost all the teapots of -the Empire is highly poetical. "On a slow fire set a tripod; fill it -with clear rain-water. Boil it as long as it would be needed to turn -fish white and lobsters red. Throw this upon the delicate leaves of -choice tea; let it remain as long as the vapour rises in a cloud. At -your ease drink the pure liquor, which will chase away the five causes -of trouble." - -The "tea of the cells of the Dragons," the purest Pekoe from the -leaf-buds of three-year-old plants, no one ever sees in Europe; but we -have secured many brands of tea which are sufficiently good, and the -famous Indian tea brought in by the great Exposition in Paris in 1889 -is fast gaining an enviable reputation. It has a perfect bouquet and -flavour. Green tea, beloved by our grandmothers and still a favourite -with some connoisseurs, has proved to have so much theine, the element -of intoxication in tea, that it is forbidden to nervous people. Tea -saves food by its action in preventing various wastes to the system. -It is thus peculiarly acceptable to elderly persons, and to the tired -labouring-woman. Doubtless Mrs. Gamp's famous teapot with which she -entertained Betsy Prig contained green tea. - -There is an unusually large amount of nitrogen in theine, and green -tea possesses so large a proportion of it as to be positively -dangerous. In the process of drying and roasting, this volatile oil is -engendered. The Chinese dare not use it for a year after the leaf has -been prepared, and the packer and unpacker of the tea suffer much from -paralysis. The tasters of tea become frequently great invalids, unable -to eat; therefore our favourite herb has its dangers. - -More consoling is the legend of the origin of the plant. A drowsy -hermit, after long wrestling with sleep, cut off his eyelids and cast -them on the ground. From them sprang a shrub whose leaves, shaped like -eyelids and bordered with a fringe of lashes, possessed the power of -warding off sleep. This was in the third century, and the plant was -tea. - -But what has all this to do with that pleasant visage of a steaming -kettle boiling over a blazing alcohol lamp, the silver tea-caddy, the -padded cozy to keep the teapot warm, the basket of cake, the thin -bread and butter, the pretty girl presiding over the cups, the -delicate china, the more delicate infusion? All these elements go to -make up the afternoon tea. From one or two ladies who stayed at home -one day in the week and offered this refreshment, to the many who came -to find that it was a very easy method of entertaining, grew the -present party in the daytime. The original five o'clock tea arose in -England from the fact that ladies and gentlemen after hunting required -some slight refreshment before dressing for dinner, and liked to meet -for a little chat. It now is used as the method of introducing a -daughter, and an ordinary way of entertaining. - -The primal idea was a good one. People who had no money for grand -spreads were enabled to show to their more opulent neighbours that -they too had the spirit of hospitality. The doctors discovered that -tea was healthy. English breakfast tea would keep nobody awake. The -cup of tea and the sandwich at five would spoil nobody's dinner. The -ladies who began these entertainments, receiving modestly in plain -dresses, were not out of tone with their guests who came in -walking-dress. - -But then the other side was this,--ladies had to go to nine teas of an -afternoon, perhaps taste something everywhere. Hence the new disease, -_delirium teamens_. It was uncomfortable to assist at a large party in -a heavy winter garment of velvet and fur. The afternoon tea lost its -primitive character and became an evening party in the daytime, with -the hostess and her daughters in full dress, and her guests in -walking-costume. - -The sipping of so much tea produces the nervous prostration, the -sleeplessness, the nameless misery of our overwrought women; and thus -a healthful, inexpensive and most agreeable adjunct to the art of -entertaining grew into a thing without a name, and became the large, -gas-lighted ball at five o'clock, where half the ladies were in -_decollete_ dresses, the others in fur tippets. It was pronounced a -breeder of influenzas, and the high road to a headache. - -If a lady can be at home every Thursday during the season, and always -at her position behind the blazing urn, and will have the firmness to -continue this practice, she may create a _salon_ out of her teacups. - -In giving a large afternoon tea for which cards have been sent out, -the hostess should stand by the drawing-room door and greet each -guest, who, after a few words, passes on. In the adjoining room, -usually the dining-room, a large table is spread with a white cloth; -and at one end is a tea service with a kettle of water boiling over an -alcohol lamp, while at the other end is a service for chocolate. There -should be flowers on the table, and dishes containing bread and butter -cut as thin as a shaving. Cake and strawberries are always -permissible. One or two servants should be in attendance to carry away -soiled cups and saucers, and to keep the table looking fresh; but for -the pouring of the tea and chocolate there should always be a lady, -who like the hostess should wear a gown closed to the throat; for -nothing is worse form now-a-days than full dress before dinner. The -ladies of the house should not wear bonnets. - -When tea is served every afternoon at five o'clock, whether or no -there are visitors, as is often the case in many houses, the -servant--who, if a woman, should always in the afternoon wear a plain -black gown, with a white cap and apron--should place a small, low -table before the lady of the house, and lay over it a pretty white -cloth. She should then bring in a large tray, upon which are the tea -service, and a plate of bread and butter, or cake, or both, place it -upon the table, and retire,--remaining within call, though out of -sight, in case she should be needed. The best rule for making tea is -the old-fashioned one: "one teaspoonful for each person and one for -the pot." The pot should first be rinsed with hot water, then the tea -put in, and upon it should be poured enough water, actually boiling, -to cover the leaves. This decoction should stand for five minutes, -then fill up the pot with more boiling water, and pour it immediately. -Some persons prefer lemon in their tea to cream, and it is a good plan -to have some thin slices, cut for the purpose, placed in a pretty -little dish on the tray. A bowl of cracked ice is also a pleasant -addition in summer, iced tea being a most refreshing drink in hot -weather. Neither plates nor napkins need appear at this informal and -cosey meal. A guest arriving at this time in the afternoon should -always be offered a cup of tea. - -Afternoon tea, in small cities or in the country, in villages and -academic towns, can well be made a most agreeable and ideal -entertainment, for the official presentation of a daughter or for the -means of seeing one's friends. In the busy winter season of a large -city it should not be made the excuse for giving up the evening party, -or the dinner, lunch, or ball. It is not all these, it is simply -itself, and it should be a refuge for those women who are tired of -balls, of over dressing, dancing, visiting, and shopping. It is also -very dear to the young who find the convenient tea-table a good arena -for flirtation. It is a form of entertainment which allows one to -dispense with etiquette and to save time. - -Five-o'clock teas should be true to their name, nor should any other -refreshment be offered than tea, bread and butter, and little cakes. -If other eatables are offered the tea becomes a reception. - -There is a high tea which takes the place of dinner on Sunday evenings -in cities, which is a very pretty entertainment; in small rural -cities, in the country, they take the place of dinners. They were -formerly very fashionable in Philadelphia. It gave an opportunity to -offer hot rolls and butter, escalloped oysters, fried chicken, -delicately sliced cold ham, waffles and hot cakes, preserves--alas! -since the days of canning, who offers the delicious preserves of the -past? The hostess sits behind her silver urn and pours the hot tea or -coffee or chocolate, and presses the guest to take another waffle. It -is a delightful meal, and has no prototype in any country but our own. - -It is doubtful, however, whether the high tea will ever be popular in -America, in large cities at least, where the custom of seven-o'clock -dinners prevails. People find in them a violent change of living, -which is always a challenge to indigestion. Some wit has said that he -always liked to eat hot mince-pie just before he went to bed, for then -he always knew what hurt him. If anyone wishes to know what hurts him, -he can take high tea on Sunday evening, after having dined all the -week at seven o'clock. A pain in his chest will tell him that the hot -waffle, the cold tongue, the peach preserve, and that "last cup of -tea" meant mischief. - -Oliver Cromwell is said to have been an early tea-drinker; so is Queen -Elizabeth,--elaborate old teapots are sold in London with the cipher -of both; but the report lacks confirmation. We cannot imagine Oliver -drinking anything but verjuice, nor the lion woman as sipping anything -less strong than brown stout. Literature owes much to tea. From Cowper -to Austin Dobson, the poets have had their fling at it. And what could -the modern English novelist do without it? It has been in politics, as -all remember who have seen Boston Harbor, and it goes into all the -battles, and climbs Mt. Blanc and the Matterhorn. The French, who -despised it, are beginning to make a good cup of tea, and Russia -bathes in it. The Samovar cheers the long journeys across those dreary -steppes, and forms again the most luxurious ornament of the palace. On -all the high roads of Europe one can get a cup of tea, except in -Spain. There it is next to impossible; the universal chocolate -supersedes it. If one gets a cup of tea in Spain, there is no cream to -put in it; and to many tea drinkers, tea is ruined without milk or -cream. - -In fact, the poor tea drinker is hard to please anywhere. There are to -the critic only one or two houses of one's acquaintance where five -o'clock tea is perfect. - - - - -THE INTELLECTUAL COMPONENTS OF DINNER. - - "Lend me your ears." - - -"It has often perplexed me to imagine," writes Nathaniel Hawthorne, -"how an Englishman will be able to reconcile himself to any future -state of existence from which the earthly institution of dinner is -excluded. The idea of dinner has so imbedded itself among his highest -and deepest characteristics, so illuminated itself with intellect, and -softened itself with the kindest emotions of his heart, so linked -itself with Church and State, and grown so majestic with long -hereditary custom and ceremonies, that by taking it utterly away, -Death, instead of putting the final touch to his perfection, would -leave him infinitely less complete than we have already known him. He -could not be roundly happy. Paradise among all its enjoyments would -lack one daily felicity in greater measure than London in the season." - -No dinner would be worth the giving that had not one witty man or one -witty woman to lift the conversation out of the commonplace. As many -more agreeable people as one pleases, but one leader is absolutely -necessary. - -Not alone the funny man whom the _enfant terrible_ silenced by asking, -"Mamma would like to know when you are going to begin to be funny," -but those men who have the rare art of being leaders without seeming -to be, who amuse without your suspecting that you are being amused; -for there never should be anything professional in dinner-table wit. - -The dinner giver has often to feel that something has been left out of -the group about the table; they will not talk! She has furnished them -with food and wine, but can she amuse them? Her witty man and her -witty woman are both engaged elsewhere,--they are apt to be,--and her -room is too warm, perhaps. She determines that at the next dinner she -will have some mechanical adjuncts, even an empirical remedy against -dulness. She tries a dinner card with poetical quotations, conundrums, -and so on. The Shakspeare Club of Philadelphia inaugurated this -custom, and some very witty results followed:-- - - "Enter Froth" (before champagne). - "What is thine age?" (_Romeo and Juliet_) brings in the Madeira. - - LOBSTER SALAD. - "Who hath created this indigest?" - - Pray you bid these unknown friends welcome, for it is a way to - make us better friends.--_Winter's Tale._ - - ROAST TURKEY. - See, here he comes swelling like a turkey cock.--_Henry IV._ - - YORK HAMS. - Sweet stem from York's great stock.--_Henry VI._ - - TONGUE. - Silence is only commendable in a neat's tongue dried-- - _Merchant of Venice._ - - BRAISED LAMB AND BEEF. - What say you to a piece of lamb and mustard?--a dish that I do - love to feed upon.--_Taming of the Shrew._ - - LOBSTER SALAD. - Sallat was born to do me good.--_Henry IV._ - -And so on. The Bible affords others, well worth quoting:-- - - OYSTERS. - He brought them up out of the sea.--_Isaiah._ - And his mouth was opened immediately.--_Luke_ i. 64. - - BEAN SOUP. - "Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentils." - - FISH, STRIPED BASS. - We remember the fish we did eat freely.--_Numbers._ - These with many stripes.--_Deuteronomy._ - - STEINBERGER CABINET. - Thou hast kept the good wine until now.--_John_ ii. 10. - - BOILED CAPON. - Accept it always and in all places.--Acts xxiv. 3. - - PIGEON BRAISE. - Pigeons such as he could get.--_Leviticus._ - - SUCCOTASH. - They brought corn and beans.--_Samuel._ - - QUAIL LARDED. - Even quail came.--_Exodus._ - Abundantly moistened with fat.--_Isaiah._ - - LETTUCE SALAD. - A pleasant plant, green before the sun.--_Isaiah._ - Pour oil upon it, pure oil, olive.--_Leviticus._ - Oil and salt, without prescribing how much.--_Ezra_ vii. 22. - - ICE CREAM. - Ice like morsels.--_Psalms._ - - CHEESE. - Carry these ten cheeses unto the captain.--_Samuel._ - - FRUITS. - All kind of fruits.--_Eccles._ - - COFFEE. - Last of all.--_Matthew_ xxi. 37. - They had made an end of eating.--_Amos_ vii. 2. - - CIGARS. - Am become like dust and ashes.--_Job_ xxx. 19. - -And so on. Written conundrums are good stimulants to conversation, and -dinner cards might be greatly historical, not too learned. A legend of -the day, as Lady Day, or Michaelmas, is not a bad promoter of talk. Or -one might allude to the calendar of dead kings and queens, or other -celebrities, or ask your preferences, or quote something from a -memoir, to find out that it is a birthday of Rossini or Goethe. All -these might be written on a dinner card, and will open the flood gates -of a frozen conversation. - -Let each dinner giver weave a net out of the gossamer threads of her -own thoughts. It will be the web of the Lady of Shalott, and will bid -the shadows of pleasant memory to remain, not float "forever adown the -river," even toward "towered Camelot" where they may be lost. - -Some opulent dinner giver once made the dinner card the vehicle of a -present, but this became rather burdensome. It was trying and -embarrassing to carry the gifts home, and the poorer entertainer -hesitated at the expense. The outlay had better come out of one's -brain, and the piquing of curiosity with a contradiction like this -take its place:-- - - "A lady gave me a gift which she had not, - And I received the gift, which I took not, - And if she take it back I grieve not." - -But there is something more required to form the intellectual -components of a dinner than these instruments to stimulate curiosity -and give a fillip to thought. We must have variety. - -Mrs. Jameson, the accomplished author of the "Legends of the Madonna" -gives the following description of an out-of-door dinner, which should -embolden the young American hostess to go and do likewise:-- - -"Yesterday we dined _al fresco_ in the Pamfili Gardens, in Rome, and -although our party was rather too large, it was well assorted, and the -day went off admirably. The queen of our feast was in high good humour -and irresistibly charming, Frattino very fascinating, T. caustic and -witty, W. lively and clever, J. mild, intelligent and elegant, V. as -usual quiet, sensible, and self-complacent, L. as absurd and assiduous -as ever. - -"Everybody played their part well, each by a tacit convention -sacrificing to the _amour propre_ of his neighbour, each individual -really occupied with his own peculiar _role_, but all apparently happy -and mutually pleased. Vanity and selfishness, indifference and _ennui_ -were veiled under a general mask of good humour and good breeding, and -the flowery bonds of politeness and gallantry held together those who -knew no common tie of thought or interest. - -"Our luxurious dinner, washed down by a competent proportion of -Malvoisie and champagne, was spread upon the grass, which was -literally the flowery turf, being covered with violets, iris, and -anemones of every dye. - -"For my own peculiar taste there were too many servants, too many -luxuries, too much fuss; but considering the style and number of our -party, it was all consistently and admirably managed. The grouping of -the company, picturesque because unpremeditated, the scenery around, -the arcades and bowers and columns and fountains had an air altogether -poetical and romantic, and put me in mind of some of Watteau's -beautiful garden pieces." - -Now in this exquisite description Mrs. Jameson seems to me to have -given the intellectual components of a dinner. "The hostess, -good-humoured and charming, Frattino very fascinating, T. caustic and -witty, W. lively and clever, J. mild, intelligent, and elegant, V. as -usual quiet, sensible, and self-complacent, L. as absurd and as -assiduous as ever." - -There was variety for you, and the three last were undoubtedly -listeners. In the next paragraph she covers more ground, and this is -most important:-- - -"Each by a tacit convention sacrificing to the _amour propre_ of his -neighbour." - -That is an immortal phrase, for there can be no pleasant dinner when -this unselfishness is not shown. It was said by a witty Boston hostess -that she could never invite two well-known diners-out to the same -dinner, for each always silenced the other. You must not have too many -good talkers. The listeners, the receptive listeners, should outnumber -the talkers. - -In England, the land of dinners, they have, of course, no end of -public, semi-official, and annual dinners,--as those of the Royal -Literary Fund, the Old Rugbians, the Artists Benevolent Fund, the -Regimental dinners, the banquets at the Liberal and the Cobden Club, -and the nice little dinners at the Star and Garter, winding up with -the annual fish dinner. - -Now of all these the most popular and sought after is the annual -dinner of the Royal Academy. Few gratifications are more desired by -mortals than an invitation to this dinner. The president, Sir Frederic -Leighton, is handsome and popular. The dinner is representative in -character; one or more members of the Royal Family are present; the -Church, the Senate, the Bar, Medicine, Literature and Science, the -Army, the Navy, the City,--all these have their representatives in the -company. - -Who would not say that this would be the most amusing dinner in -London? Intellect at its highest water mark is present. The _menu_ is -splendid. But I have heard one distinguished guest say that the thing -is over-freighted, the ship is too full, and the crowd of good things -makes a surfeit. - -Dinners at the Lord Mayor's are said to be pleasant and fine specimens -of civic cheer, but the grand nights at the Middle Temple and others -of the Inns of Court are occasions of pleasant festivity. - -We have nothing to do with these, however, except to read of them, and -to draw our conclusions. I know of no better use to which we can put -them than the same rereading which we gave Mrs. Jameson's -well-considered _menu_: "Each individual really occupied with his own -_role_, but all apparently happy and mutually pleased. Variety and -selfishness or indifference or _ennui_ well veiled under a general -mask of good humour and good breeding, and the flowery bands of -politeness and gallantry holding together those who knew no common tie -of thought and interest." It requires very civilized people to veil -their indifference and _ennui_ under a general mask of good humour. - -To have unity, one must first have units; and to make an agreeable -dinner-party the hostess should invite agreeable people, and her -husband should be a good host; and here we must again compliment -England. An Englishman is churlish and distant, self-conscious and -prejudiced everywhere else but at his own table. He is a model host, -and a most agreeable guest. He is the most genial of creatures after -the soup and sherry. Indeed the English dinner is the keynote to all -that is best in the English character. An Englishman wishes to eat in -company. - -How unlike the Spaniard, who never asks you to dinner. However -courtly and hospitable he may be at other times and other hours of the -day, he likes to drag his bone into a corner and gnaw it by himself. - -The Frenchman, elegant, _soigne_, and economical, invites you to the -best-cooked dinner in the world, but there is not much of it. He -prefers to entertain you at a cafe. Country life in France is -delightful, but there is not that luxurious, open-handed entertaining -which obtains in England. - -In Italy one is seldom admitted to the privacy of the family dinner. -It is a patriarchal affair. But when one is admitted one finds much -that is _simpatica_. The cookery is good, the service is perfect, the -dinner is short, the conversation gay and easy. - -In making up a dinner with a view to its intellectual components, -avoid those tedious talkers who, having a theme, a system, or a fad to -air, always contrive to drag the conversation around to their view, -with the intention of concentrating the whole attention upon -themselves. One such man, called appropriately the Bore Constrictor of -conversation in a certain city, really drove people away from every -house to which he was invited; for they grew tired of hearing him talk -of that particular science in which he was an expert. Such a talker -could make the planet Jupiter a bore, and if the talker were of the -feminine gender how one would shun her verbosity. - -"I called on Mrs. Marjoribanks yesterday," said a free lance once, -"and we had a little gossip about Copernicus." We do not care to have -anything quite so erudite, for if people are really very intimate with -Copernicus they do not mention it at dinner. - -It is as impossible to say what makes the model diner-out as to -describe the soil which shall grow the best grapes. We feel it and we -enjoy it, but we can give no receipt for the production of the same. - -As history, with exemplary truthfulness, has always painted man as -throwing off all the trouble of giving a dinner on his wife, why have -not our clever women appreciated the power of dinner-giving in -politics? Why are not our women greater politicians? Where is our Lady -Jersey, our Lady Palmerston, our Princess Belgioso? The Princess -Lieven, wife of the Russian Ambassador in London, was said to have -held the peace of Europe in the conduct of her _entrees_; and a -country-woman of our own is to-day supposed to influence the policy of -Germany largely by her dinners. From the polished and versatile -memoirs of the Grammonts, Walpoles, D'Azelios, Sydney Smith, and Lord -Houghton, how many an anecdote hinges on the efficacy of a dinner in -reconciling foes, and in the making of friends. How many a conspiracy -was hatched, no doubt, behind an aspic of plover's eggs or a _vol au -vent de volaille_. How many a budding ministry, according to Lord -Lammington, was brought to full power over a well-ordered table-cloth. -How many a war cloud dispelled by the proper temperature of the -Burgundy. It is related of Lord Lyndhurst that when somebody asked him -how to succeed in life, he answered, "Give good wine." A French -statesman would have answered, "Give good dinners." Talleyrand kept -the most renowned table of his day, quite as much for political as -hygienic reasons. At eighty years of age he still spent an hour every -morning with his _chef_, discussing the dishes to be served at dinner. -The Emperor Napoleon, who was no epicure, nor even a connoisseur, was -nevertheless pleased with Talleyrand's luxurious and refined -hospitality, in consequence of the impression it made on those who -were so fortunate as to partake of it. On the other hand, one -hesitates to contemplate the indigestions and bad English cooking -which must have hatched an Oliver Cromwell, or still earlier that -decadence of Italian cookery which made a Borgia possible. - -Social leaders in all ages and countries have thus studied the tastes -and the intellectual aptitudes and capabilities of those whom they -have gathered about their boards; and Mythology would suggest that the -_petits soupers_ on high Olympus, enlivened by the "inextinguishable -laughter of the gods," had much to do with the politics of the Greek -heaven under Jupiter. Reading the Northern Saga in the same -connection, may not the vague and awful conceptions of cookery which -seem to have filled the Northern mind have had something to do with -the opera of Siegfried? Even the music of Wagner seems to have been -inspired by a draught from the skull of his enemy. It has the -fascination of clanging steel, and the mighty rustling of armour. The -wind sighs through the forest, and the ice-blast freezes the hearer. -The chasms of earth seem to open before us. But it has also the terror -of an indigestion, and the brooding horror of a nightmare from -drinking metheglia and eating half-roasted kid. The political aspect -of a Scandinavian heaven was always stormy. Listen to the Trilogy. - -In America a hostess sure of her soups and her _entrees_, with such -talkers as she could command, could influence American political -movements--she might influence its music--by her dinners, and become -an enviable Lady Palmerston. - -Old people are apt to say that there is a decay in the art of -conversation, that it is one of the lost arts. No doubt this is in a -measure true all over the world. A French _salon_ would be to-day an -impossibility for that very reason. It is no longer the fashion to -tell anecdotes, to try to be amusing. A person is considered a prig -who sits up to amuse the company. All this is bad; it is reactionary -after the drone of the Bore Constrictor. It is going on all over the -world. It is part of that hurry which has made us talk slang, the -jelly of speech, speech condensed and boiled down, easily transported, -and warranted to keep in all climates. - -But there is a very pleasant _juste milieu_ between the stately, -perhaps starchy, anecdotist of the past and the easy and witty talker -of to-day, who may occasionally drop into slang, and what is more, may -permit a certain slovenliness of speech. There are certain mistakes in -English, made soberly, advisedly, and without fear of Lindley Murray, -which make one sigh for the proprieties of the past. The trouble is we -have no standard. Writers are always at work at the English language, -and yet many people say that it is at present the most irregular and -least understood of all languages. - -The intellectual components of a successful dinner, should, if we may -quote Hawthorne, be illuminated with intellect, and softened by the -kindest emotions of the heart. To quote Mrs. Jameson, they must -combine the caustic and the witty, the lively and the clever, and even -the absurd, and the assiduous above all. Everybody must be unselfish -enough not to yawn, and never seem bored. They must be self-sacrificing, -but all apparently well-pleased. The intellectual components of a -dinner, like the condiments of a salad, must be of the best; and it is -for the hostess to mix them with the unerring tact and fine -discrimination of an American woman. - - - - -CONSCIENTIOUS DINERS. - - It is chiefly men of intellect who hold good eating in honour. - The head is not capable of a mental operation which consists in - a long sequence of appreciations, and many severe decisions of - the judgment, which has not a well-fed brain. - BRILLAT SAVARIN. - - -A good dinner and a pretty hostess,--for there are terms on which -beauty and beef can meet much to the benefit of both,--one wit, -several good talkers, and as many good listeners, or more of the -latter, are said to make a combination which even our greatest -statesmen do not despise. Man wants good dinners. It is woman's -province to provide them; but nature and education must make the -conscientious diner. - -It is to be feared that we are too much in a hurry to be truly -conscientious diners. Our men have too many school-tasks -yet,--politics, money-making, science, mental improvement, charities, -psychical research, building railroads, steam monitors, colleges, and -such like gauds,--too many such distractions to devote themselves as -they ought to the question of _entrees_ and _entremets_. They should -endeavour to give the dinner a fitting place. Just see how the noble -language of France, which Racine dignified and Moliere amplified, -respectfully puts on its robes of state which are lined with ermine -when it approaches the great subject of dinner! - -It is to be feared that we are far off from the fine art of dining, -although many visits to Paris and much patronage of Le Doyon's, the -Cafe Anglais, and the Cafe des Ambassadeurs, may have prepared us for -the _entremet_ and the _piece de resistance_. We are improving in this -respect and no longer bolt our dinners. The improvement is already -manifest in the better tempers and complexions of our people. - -But are we as conscientious as the gentleman in "Punch" who rebuked -the giddy girl who would talk to him at dinner? "Do you remember, my -dear, that you are in the house of the best _entrees_ in London? I -wish to eat my dinner." - -That was a man to cook for! He had his appropriate calm reserve of -appreciation, for the _supreme de volaille_. He knew how to watch and -wait for the sweetbreads, and green peas. Not thrown away upon him was -that last turn which makes the breast of the partridge become of a -delicate Vandyck brown. How respectful was he to that immortal art for -which the great French cook died, a suicide for a belated turbot. - -"Ah," said Parke Godwin once, when in one of his most brilliant -Brillat Savarin moods, "how it ennobles a supper to think that all -these oysters will become ideas!" - -But if a dinner is not a cookery book, neither is it a matter of -expense alone, nor a payment of social debts. It is a question of -temperature, of the selection of guests, of the fitness of things, of -a proper variety, and of time. The French make their exquisite dinners -light and short. The English make theirs a trifle long and heavy. - -The young hostess, to strike the _juste milieu_, must travel, reflect, -and go to a cooking-school. She must buy and read a library of -cooking-books. And when all is done and said, she must realize that a -cookery-book is not a dinner. There are some natures which can absorb -nothing from a cookery-book. As Lady Galway said that she had put all -her wits into Bradshaw's "Railway Guide" and had never got them out -again, so some amateur cook remarked that she had tested her recipes -with the "cook-book in one hand and the cooking-stove in the other," -yet the wit had stayed away. All young housekeepers must go through -the discipline--in a land where cooks are as yet scarce--of trying and -failing, of trying and at length succeeding. They must go to _La Belle -France_ to learn how to make a soup, for instance. That is to say, -they must study the best French authorities. - -The mere question of sustenance is easy of solution. We can stand by a -cow and drink her milk, or we can put some bread in our pockets and -nibble it as we go along; but dinner as represented by our complicated -civilization is a matter of interest which must always stand high -amongst the questions which belong to social life. It is a very -strange attendant circumstance that having been a matter of profound -concern to mankind for so many years, it is now almost as easy to find -a bad dinner as a good one, even in Paris, that headquarters of -cookery. - -There would be no sense in telling a young American housekeeper to -learn to make sauces and to cook like a French _chef_, for it is a -profession requiring years of study and great natural taste and -aptitude. A French _chef_ commands a higher salary than a secretary of -state or than a civil engineer. As well tell a young lady that she -could suddenly be inspired with a knowledge of the art of war or of -navigation. She would only perhaps learn to do very badly what they in -ten years learn to do so well. She would say in her heart, "For my -part I am surfeited with cookery. I cry, something _raw_ if you please -for me,--something that has never been touched by hand except the one -that pulled it off the blooming tree or uprooted it from the honest -ground. Let me be a Timon if you will, and eat green radishes and -cabbages, or a Beau Brummel, asphyxiated in the consumption of a green -pea; but no _ragout_, _cotelette_, _compote_, _creme_, or any hint or -cooking till the remembrance of all that I have seen has faded and the -smell of it has passed away!" - -Thus said one who attended a cooking-school, had gone through the -mysteries of soup-making, had learned what _saute_ means; had mastered -_entremets_, and _entrees_, and _plats_, and _hors d'oeuvres_; had -learned that _boudins de veau_ are simply veal puddings, something a -little better than a veal croquette made into a little pie; and had -found that all meats if badly cooked are much alike. There is a great -deal of nonsense talked about making good dishes out of nothing. A -French cook is very economical, he uses up odds and ends, but he must -have something to cook with. - -Stone broth does not go down with a hungry man, nor bad food, however -disguised with learned sauces. A little learning is a dangerous thing, -and one who attempts too much will fail. But one can read, and -reflect, and get the general outlines of cultivated cookery. As to -cultivated cookery being necessarily extravagant, that is a mistake. A -great, heavy, ill-considered dinner is no doubt costly. Almost all -American housekeeping is wasteful in the extreme, but the modern -vanities which depend on the skill of the cook and the arranging mind -of the housekeeper, all these are the triumphs of the present age, and -worthy of deep thought and consideration. Let the young housekeeper -remember that the pretty _entrees_ made out of yesterday's roast -chicken or turkey will be a great saving as well as a great luxury, -and she will learn to make them. - -Amongst a busy people like ourselves, from poorest to the richest, -dinners are intended to be recreations, and recreations of inestimable -value. The delightful contrast which they offer to the labours of the -day, the pleasant, innocent triumph they afford to the hostess, in -which all may partake without jealousy, the holiday air of guests and -of the dining-room, which should be fresh, well aired, filled with -flowers, made bright with glass and silver,--all this refreshes the -tired man of affairs and invigorates every creature. As far as -possible, the discussion of all disagreeable subjects should be kept -from the dinner-table. All that is unpleasant lowers the pulse and -retards digestion. All that is cheerful invigorates the pulse and -helps the human being to live a more brave and useful life. No one -should bring an unbecoming grumpiness to the dinner-table. Be grumpy -next day if you choose, when the terrapin may have disagreed with you, -but not at the feast. Bring the best bit of news and gossip, not -scandal, the choicest critique of the last novel, the cream of your -correspondence. Be sympathetic, amiable, and agreeable at a feast, -else it were better you had stayed away. The last lesson of luxury is -the advice to contribute of our very best to the dinners of our -friends, while we form our own dinners on the plane of the highest -luxury which we can afford, and avoid the great _too much_. Remember -that in all countries the American lavish prodigality of feasting, -and the expensive garniture of hothouse flowers, are always spoken of -as vulgar. How well it will be for us when our splendid array of fish, -flesh, and fowl shall have reached the benediction of good cookery; -when we know how to serve it, not with barbaric magnificence and -repletion, but with a delicate sense of fitness. - -Mr. Webster, himself an admirable dinner giver, said of a codfish -salad that it was "fit to eat." He afterwards remarked, more -gravely,--and it made him unpopular,--that a certain nomination was -"not fit to be made." - -That led to a discussion of the word "fit." The fitness of things, the -right amount, the thing in the right place, whether it be the -condiment of a salad or the nomination to the presidency,--this is the -thing to consult, to think of in a dinner; let it be "fit to be made." - -An American dinner resolves itself into the following formula:-- - -The oyster is offered first. What can equal the American oyster in all -his salt-sea freshness, raw, on the half-shell, a perpetual stimulant -to appetite,--with a slice of lemon, and a bit of salt and pepper, -added to his own luscious juices, his perfect flavor? The jaded -palate, worn with much abuse, revives, and stands, like Oliver, asking -for more. - -The soup follows. To this great subject we might devote a chapter. -What visions of white and brown, clear and thick, fresh beef stock or -the maritime delicacies of cray fish and prawn rise before us,--in -every colour, from pink or cream to the heavy Venetian red of the -mulligatawny or the deep smoke-tints of mock turtle and terrapin! The -subject grows too large for mere mention; we must give a chapter to -soup. - -When we speak of fish we realize that the ocean even is inadequate to -hold them all. Have we not trout, salmon, the great fellows from the -Great Lakes, and the exclusive ownership of the Spanish mackerel? Have -we not the fee simple of terrapin and the exclusive excellence of -shad? This subject, again, requires a volume. - -The roast! Ah! here we once bowed to our great Mother England, and -thought her roast beef better than ours. There are others who think -that we have caught up on the roasts. Our beef is very good, our -mutton does not equal always the English Southdowns; but we are even -improving in the blacknosed woolly brethren who conceal such delicious -juices under their warm coats. - -A roast saddle of mutton with currant jelly--but let us not linger -over this thrilling theme. Our venison is the best in the world. - -As for turkeys,--_we discovered them_, and it is fair to say that, -after looking the world over, there is no better bird than a Rhode -Island Turkey, particularly if it is sent to you as a present from a -friend. Hang him a week, with a truffle in him, and stuff him with -chestnuts. - -As for chickens--there France has us at a disadvantage. There seems to -be a secret of fowl-feeding, or rearing, in France which we have not -mastered. Still we can get good chickens in America, and noble capons, -but they are very expensive. - -The _entrees_--here we must go again to those early missionaries to a -savage shore, the Delmonicos. They were the high priests of the -_entree_. - -The salads--those daughters of luxury, those delicate expressions, in -food, of the art of dress--deserve a separate chapter. - -And now the _sorbet_ cools our throats and leads us up to the game. - -The American desserts are particularly rich and profuse. Our pies have -been laughed at, but they also are fit to eat, especially mince-pie, -which is first cousin to an English plum-pudding. - -Our puddings are like our Western scenery, heavy but magnificent. Our -ices have reached, under our foreign imported artists, the greatest -perfection. Our fruit is abundant and highly flavoured. We have not -yet perhaps known how to draw the line as to desserts. The great _too -much_ prevails. - -Do we not make our dinners too long and too heavy? How great an artist -would he be who should so graduate a dinner that there would be no -to-morrow in it! We eat more like Heliogabalus than like that -_gourmet_ who took the _beccafico_ out of the olive which had been -hidden in the pigeon, which had in its turn been warmed in the -chicken, which was cooked in the ox, which was roasted whole for the -birthday of a king. The _gourmet_ discarded the rest, but ate the -_beccafico_. - -The first duty of a guest who is asked to one of these dinners is to -be punctual. Who wishes to sit next to Mr. Many-Courses, when he has -been kept waiting for his dinner? Imagine the feelings of an amiable -host and hostess who, after taking the trouble to get up an excellent -dinner, feel that it is being spoiled by the tardiness of one guest! -They are nervously watching Mr. Many-Courses, for hungry animals are -frequently snappish, and sometimes dangerous. - -The hostess who knows how to invite her guests and to seat them -afterwards is a power in the State. She helps to refine, elevate, and -purify our great American conglomerate. She has not the Englishman's -Bible, "The Peerage," to help her seat her guests; she must trust to -her own intelligence to do that. Our great American conglomerate -repels all idea of rank, or the precedence idea, which is so well -understood in England. - -Hereditary distinction we have not, for although there are some -families which can claim a grandfather, they are few. A grandfather is -of little importance to the men who make themselves. Aristocracy in -America is one of talent or money. - -Even those more choice intelligences, which in older countries are put -on glass pedestals, are not so elevated here as to excite jealousy. We -all adore the good diner-out, but somebody would be jealous if he had -always the best seat. Therefore the hostess has to contend with much -that is puzzling in the seating of her guests; but if she says to -herself, "I will place those people near each other who are -sympathetic," she will govern her festive board with the intelligence -of Elizabeth, and the generosity of Queen Margharita. - -She must avoid too many highly scented flowers. People are sometimes -weary of the "rapture of roses." Horace says: "Avoid, at an agreeable -entertainment, discordant music, and muddy perfume, and poppies mixed -with Sardinian honey; they give offence." Which is only another way of -saying that some music may be too heavy, and the perfume of flowers -too strong. - -Remember, young hostess, or old hostess, that your dinner is to be -made up of people who have to sit two hours chatting with each other, -and that this is of itself a severe ordeal of patience. - -Good breeding is said to be the apotheosis of self-restraint, and so -is good feeding. Good breeding puts nature under restraint, controls -the temper, and refines the speech. Good feeding, unless it is as well -governed as it should be, inflames the nose and the temper, and -enlarges the girth most unbecomingly. Good breeding is the guardian -angel of a woman. Good feeding, that is, conscientious dining, must be -the patron saint of a man! A truly well bred and well fed man is quiet -in dress, does not talk slang, is not prosy, is never unbecomingly -silent, nor is he too garrulous. He is always respectful to everybody, -kind to the weak, helpful to the feeble. He may not be an especially -lofty character, but good feeding inducts him into the character and -duties of a gentleman. He simulates a virtue if he has it not, -especially after dinner. _Noblesse oblige_ is his motto, and he feels -what is due to himself. - -Can we be a thorough-bred, or a thorough-fed, all by ourselves? It is -easy enough to learn when and where to leave a card, how to behave at -a dinner, how to use a fork, how to receive and how to drop an -acquaintance; but what a varied education is that which leads up to -good feeding, to becoming a conscientious diner. It is not given to -every one, this lofty grace. - -A dinner should be a good basis for a mutual understanding. They say -that few great enterprises have been conducted without it. People are -sure to like each other much better after dining together. It is -better to go home from a dinner remembering how clever everybody was, -than to go home merely to wonder at the opulence that could compass -such a pageant. - -A dinner should put every one into his best talking condition. The -quips and quirks of excited fancy should come gracefully, for society -well arranged brings about the attrition of wits. If one is -comfortable and well-fed--not gorged--he is in his best condition. - -The more civilized the world gets, the more difficult it is to amuse -it. It is the common complaint of the children of luxury that dinners -are dull and society stupid. How can the reformer make society more -amusing and less dangerous? Eliminate scandal and back-biting. - -The danger and trials and difficulties of dinner-giving are manifold. -First, whom shall we ask? Will they come? It is often the fate of the -hostess, in the busy season, to invite forty people before she gets -twelve. Having got the twelve, she then has perhaps a few days before -the dinner to receive the unwelcome news that Jones has a cold, Mrs. -Brown has lost a relative, and Miss Malcontent has gone to Washington. -The dinner has to be reconstructed; deprived of its original intention -it becomes a balloon which has lost ballast. It goes drifting about, -and there is no health in it and no purpose. This is especially true -also of those dinners which are conducted on debt-paying principles. - -How many hard-worked, rich men in America are bored to death by the -gilded and over-burdened splendour of their wives' dinners and those -to which they are to go. They sit looking at their hands during two or -three courses, poor dyspeptics who cannot eat. To relieve them, to -bring them into communion with their next neighbour, with whom they -have nothing in common, what shall one do? Oh, that depressing cloud -which settles over the jaded senses of even the conscientious diner, -as he fails to make his neighbour on either side say anything but yes -or no! - -We must, perhaps, before we give the perfect dinner, renounce the idea -that dinner should be on a commercial basis. Of course our social -debts must be paid. It is a large subject, like the lighting of a -city, the cleaning of the streets, and must be approached carefully, -so that the lesser evil may not swamp the greater good. Do not invite -twelve people to bore them. - -The dinner hour differs in different cities,--from seven to half-past -seven, to eight, and eight and a half; all these have their adherents. -In London, many a party does not sit down until nine. Hence the -necessity of a hearty meal at five o'clock tea. The royalties, all -blessed with good appetites, eat eggs on toast, hot scones and other -good things at five o'clock tea, and take often an _avant gout_ also -at seven. - -In our country half-past seven is generally the most convenient hour, -unless one is going to the play afterward, when seven is better. A -dinner should not last more than an hour and a half. But it does last -sometimes three hours. - -Ladies dress for a large dinner often in low neck and short sleeves, -wear their jewels, and altogether their finest things. But now -Pompadour waists are allowed. For a small dinner, the Pompadour dress, -half-open at the throat, with a few jewels, is in better taste. - -Men should be always in full dress,--black coat, waistcoat, and -trousers, and white cravat. There is no variation from this dress at a -dinner, large or small. - -For ladies in delicate health who cannot expose throat or arms, there -is always the largest liberty allowed; but the dinner dress must be -handsome. - -In leaving the house and ordering the carriage, name the earliest hour -rather than the latest; it is better to keep one's coachman waiting -than to weary one's hostess. It is quite impossible to say when one -will leave, as there may be music, recitations, and so on, after the -dinner. It is now quite the fashion, as in London, to ask people in -after the dinner. - -Everybody should go to a dinner intending to be agreeable. - - "E'en at a dinner some will be unblessed, - However good the viands, and well dressed; - They always come to table with a scowl, - Squint with a face of verjuice o'er each dish, - Fault the poor flesh, and quarrel with the fish, - Curse cook, and wife, and loathing, eat and growl." - -Such men should never be asked twice; yet such were Dr. Johnson, and -later on, Abraham Hayward, the English critic, who were invited out -every night of their lives. It is a poor requital for hospitality, to -allow any personal ill-temper to interfere with the pleasure of the -feast. Some hostesses send around the champagne early to unloose the -tongues; and this has generally a good effect if the party be dull. -Excessive heat in a room is the most benumbing of all overweights. Let -the hostess have plenty of oxygen to begin with. - -For a little dinner of eight we might suggest that the hostess -write:-- - - DEAR MRS. SULLIVAN,--Will you and Mr. Sullivan dine with us on - Thursday at half-past seven to meet Mr. and Mrs. Evarts, quite - informally? - - Ever yours truly, - MARY MONTGOMERY. - -This accepted, which it should be in the first person, cordially, as -it is written, let us see what we would have for dinner-- - - Sherry. Soup. Sorrel, _a l'essence de veau_. - Lobsters, _saute a la Bonnefoy_. Chablis. - Veal Cutlets, _a la Zingara_. - Fried sweet potatoes. Champagne. - Roast Red-Head Ducks. Currant jelly. - Claret. Curled Celery in glasses. Olives. - Cheese. Salad. - Frozen Pudding. - Grapes. - Coffee. Liqueurs. - -Or, if you please, a brown soup, a white fish or bass, boiled, a -saddle of mutton, a pair of prairie chickens and salad, a plate of -broiled mushrooms, a _sorbet_ of Maraschino, cheese, ice-cream, fruit. -It is not a bad "look-out," is it? - -How well the Italians understand the little dinner! They are frugal -but conscientious diners until they get to the dessert. - -Their dishes have a relish of the forest and the field. First comes -wild boar, stewed in a delicious condiment called sour-sweet sauce, -composed of almonds, pistachio nuts, and plums. Quails, with a twang -of aromatic herbs, are followed by macaroni flavoured with spiced -livers, cocks' combs, and eggs called _risotto_, then golden _fritto_, -cooked in the purest _cru_ of olive oil, and _quocchi_ cakes, of newly -ground Indian corn, which is all that our roasted green corn is, -without the trouble of gnawing it off the cob,--a process abhorrent to -the conscientious diner unless he is alone. One should first take -monastic vows of extreme austerity before he eats the forbidden fruit, -onion, or the delicious corn. But when we can conquer Italian cooking, -we can eat these two delicious things, nor fear to whisper to our -best friend, nor fear to be seen eating. - -The triumphs of the _dolce_ belong also to the Italians. Their sugared -fruits, ices, and pastry are all matchless; and their wines, Chianti, -Broglio, and Vino Santo, a kind of Malaga, as "frankly luscious as the -first grape can make it," are all delicious. - - - - -VARIOUS MODES OF GASTRONOMIC GRATIFICATION. - - Phyllis, I have a cask full of Albanian wine upwards of nine - years old; I have parsley in the garden for the weaving of - chaplets. The house shines cheerfully with plate; all hands - are busy. HORACE, _Ode XI_. - - -Some old French wit spoke of an "idea which could be canonized." -Perhaps yet we may have a Saint Table-Cloth. There have been worse -saints than Saint Table-Cloth and clean linen, since the days of Louis -XIII! - -We notice in the old pictures of feasting that the table-cloth was of -itself a picture,--lace, in squares, blocks, and stripes, sometimes -only lace over a colour, but generally mixed with linen. - -It was the highest ambition of the Dutch housewife to have much double -damask of snowy whiteness in her table-linen chest. That is still the -grand reliable table-linen. No one can go astray who uses it. - -Table-linen is now embroidered in coloured cottons, or half of its -threads are drawn out and it is then sewed over into lace-work. It is -then thrown over a colour, generally bright red. But pale lilac is -more refined, and very becoming to the lace-work. - -Not a particle of coarse food must go on that table-cloth. Everything -must be brought to each guest from the broad, magnificent buffet; all -must be served _a la Russe_ from behind a grand, impenetrable -screen, which should fence off every dining-room from the butler's -pantry and the kitchen. All that goes on behind that screen is the -butler's business, and not ours. The butler is a portly man, -presumably, with a clean-shaven face, of English parentage. He has the -key of the wine-cellar and of the silver-chest, two heavy -responsibilities; for nowadays, not to go into the question of the -wines, the silver-chest is getting weighty. Silver and silver-gilt -dishes, banished for some years, are now reasserting their pre-eminent -fitness for the dinner-table: The plates may be of solid silver; so -are the high candlesticks and the salt-cellars, of various and -beautiful designs after Benvenuto Cellini. - -Old silver is reappearing, and happy the hostess who has a real Queen -Anne teapot. The soup-tureen of silver is again used, and so are the -old beer-mugs. Our Dutch ancestors were much alive to good silver; he -may rejoice who, joking apart, had a Dutch uncle. I, for one, do not -like to eat off a metallic plate, be it of silver or gold. It is -disagreeable to hear the knife scrape on it, even with the delicate -business of cutting a morsel of red canvas-back. Gastronomic -gratification should be so highly refined that it trembles at a -crumpled rose-leaf. Porcelain plates seem to be perfect, if they have -not on them the beautiful head of Lamballe. Nobody at a dinner desires -to cut her head off again, or to be reminded of the French Revolution. -Nor should we hurry. A master says, "I have arrived at such a point -that if the calls of business or pleasure did not interpose, there -would be no fixed date for finding what time might elapse between the -first glass of sherry and the final Maraschino." - -However, the pleasures of a dinner may be too prolonged. Men like to -sit longer eating and drinking than women; so when a dinner is of both -sexes it should not continue more than one hour and a half. Horace, -that prince of diners, objected to the long-drawn-out meal. "Then we -drank, each as much as he felt the need," meant no orgy amongst the -Greeks. - -But if the talk lingers after the biscuit and cheese the hostess need -not interrupt it. - -Talleyrand is said to have introduced into France the custom of taking -Parmesan with the soup, and the Madeira after it. - -There are many conflicting opinions about the proper place for the -cheese in order of serving. The old fashion was to serve it last. It -is now served with, or after, the salad. "A dessert without cheese is -like a beautiful woman with one eye," says an old gourmet. - -"Eat cheese after fruit, to prepare the palate for fresh wine," says -another. - -"After melon, wine is a felon." - -If it is true that "an American devours, an Englishman eats, and a -Frenchman dines," then we must take the French fashion and give the -cheese after the salad. - -Toasted cheese savouries are very nice. The Roman punch should be -served just before the game. It is a very refreshing interlude. Some -wit called it at Mrs. Hayes' dinners "the life-saving station." - -When the ices are removed a dessert-plate of glass, with a -finger-bowl, is placed before each person, with two glasses, one for -sherry, one for claret, or Burgundy; and the grapes, peaches, pears, -and other fruits are then passed. - -The hostess makes the sign for retiring to a _salon_ perhaps rich -with magnificent hangings of old gold, with pictures, with vases of -Dresden, of Sevres, of Kiota, with statuary, and specimens of Capo di -Monti. There coffee may be brought and served by the footmen in cups -which Catherine of Russia might have given to Potemkin. The gentlemen, -in England and America, remain behind to smoke. - -There is much exquisite porcelain in use in the opulent houses of -America. It is getting to be a famous fad with us, and nothing adds -more to one's pleasure in a good dinner than to have it served on -pretty plates. And let us learn to say "footman," and not "waiter;" -the latter personage belongs to a club or a hotel. It would prevent -disagreeable mistakes if we would make this correction in our ordinary -conversation. - -In the arrangement of a splendid dinner let us see what should be the -bill of fare. - -This is hard to answer, as the delicacies vary with the season. But we -will venture on one:-- - - Oysters on the half-shell. - Sherry. Soups: - _Creme d'Asperges_, Julienne. - Fish: Chablis. - Fried Smelts, or Salmon. - Fresh Cucumbers. - Champagne. _Filet de Boeuf_, with Truffles Claret. - and Mushrooms. - Fried Potatoes. - Entrees: - _Poulet a la Marechale_. _Petits Pois._ - _Timbale de Macaroni_. - Sweetbreads. - Vegetables. Artichokes. - Sorbet. Roman Punch. - Steinberger. Game: - Canvas-back or Wild Duck with Currant Jelly. - Quail with Water-Cresses. - Salad of Lettuce. Salad of Tomato. - Rudesheimer. _Pate de foie gras._ - Hot dessert: - Cabinet Pudding. - Cold dessert: - _Creme glacee aux tutti frutti._ - _Marron glaces._ Cakes. Preserved ginger. - Madeira. Cheese. Port. - Cafe. Cordials. - -I apologize to my reader for mixing thus French and English. It is a -vulgar habit, and should be avoided. But it is almost impossible to -avoid it when speaking of a dinner; the cooks being French, the -_menus_ are written in French, and the names of certain dishes are -usually written in French. Now all people understand French, or should -do so. If they do not, it is very easy to learn that the "_vol au vent -de volaille_" is simply chicken pie, that potatoes are still potatoes -under whatever alias they are served, and so on. - -No such dinner as this can be well served in a private house unless -the cook is a _chef_, a _cordon bleu_,--here we must use French -again,--and unless the service is perfect this dinner will be a -failure. It is better to order such a dinner from Delmonico's or -Sherry's or from the best man you can command. Do not attempt and -fail. - -But the little dinners given by housekeepers whose service is perfect -are apt to be more eatable and palatable than the best dinner from a -restaurant, where all the food is cooked by gas, and tastes alike. - -The number of guests is determined by the size of the room. The -etiquette of entering the dining-room is this: the host goes first, -with the most distinguished lady. The hostess follows last, with the -most distinguished gentleman. - -Great care and attention must be observed in seating the guests. This -is the province of the hostess, who must consider the subject -carefully. All this must be written out, and a diagram made of the -table. The name of each lady is written on a card and enclosed in an -envelope, on the outside of which is inscribed the name of the -gentleman who has the honour to take her in. This envelope must be -given each man by the servant in the dressing-room, or he must find it -on the hall table. Then, with the dinner-card at each place, the -guests find their own places. - -The lady of the house should be dressed and in the drawing-room at -least five minutes before the guests are to arrive, which should be -punctually. How long must a hostess wait for a tardy guest? Only -fifteen minutes. - -It is well to say to the butler, "Dinner must be served at half-past -seven," and the guests may be asked at seven. That generally ensures -the arrival of all before the fish is spoiled. Let the company then go -in to dinner, allowing the late-comer to follow. He must come in -alone, blushing for his sins. These facts may help a hostess: No great -dinner in Europe waits for any one; royalty is always punctual. In -seating your guests do not put husband and wife, sisters or relatives -together. - -An old courtesy book of 1290 says:-- - - "Consider about placing - Each person in the post that befits him. - Between relations it behooves - To place others midway sometimes." - -We should respect the _superstitions_ of the dinner-table. No one -should be helped twice to soup; it means an early death. Few are free -from the feeling that thirteen is an unlucky number; so avoid that, as -no one wishes to make a guest uncomfortable. As we have said, Gasthea -is an irritable muse; she must be flattered and pampered. No one must -put salt on another's plate. There is a strong prejudice against -spilling the salt; but evil consequences can be avoided by throwing a -pinch of salt over the left shoulder. - -These remarks may seem frivolous to those unhappy persons who have not -the privilege of being superstitious. It gives great zest to life to -have a few harmless superstitions. It is the cheese _fondu_ of the -mental faculties; and we may add that a consideration of these maxims, -handed down from a glorious past of gastronomes, contributes to the -various modes of gastronomic gratification. We must remember that the -tongue of man, by the delicacy of its structure, gives ample evidences -of the high functions to which it is destined. The Roman epicures -cultivated their taste so perfectly that they could tell if a fish -were caught above or below a bridge. Organic perfection, epicureanism, -or the art of good living, belongs to man alone. The pleasure of -eating is the only one, taken in moderation, which is common to every -time, age, and condition, which is enjoyed without fatigue or danger, -which must be repeated two or three times a day. It can combine with -our other pleasures, or console us for their loss. - -"_Un bon diner, c'est un consolation pour les illusions perdus._" And -we have an especial satisfaction, when in the act of eating, that we -are prolonging our existence, and enabling ourselves to become good -citizens whilst enjoying ourselves. - -Thus the pleasures of the table, the act of dining, the various modes -of gastronomic gratification should receive our most respectful -consideration. "Let the soup be hot, and the wines cool. Let the -coffee be perfect, and the liqueurs chosen with peculiar care. Let the -guests be detained by the social enjoyment, and animated with the hope -that before the evening is over there is still some pleasure in -store." - -Our modern hostesses who understand the art of entertaining often have -music, or some recitations, in the drawing-room after the dinner; and -in England it is often made the occasion of an evening party. - -Thus gourmandize is that social love of good dinners which combines in -one Athenian elegance, Roman luxury, and Parisian refinement. It -implies discretion to arrange, skill to prepare, and taste to direct. -It cannot be done superficially, and if done well it takes time, -experience, and care. "To be a success, a dinner must be thought out." - -"By right divine, man is the king of nature, and all that the earth -produces is for him. It is for him that the quail is fattened, the -grape ripened. For him alone the Mocha possesses so agreeable an -aroma, for him the sugar has such wholesome properties." - -He, and he alone, banquets in company, and so far from good living -being hurtful to health, Brillat Savarin declares that the _gourmets_ -have a larger dose of vitality than other men. But they have their -sorrows, and the worst of them is a bad dinner,--an ill-considered, -wretchedly composed, over-burdened repast, in which there is little -enjoyment for the brain, and a constant disappointment to the palate. - -"Let the dishes be exceedingly choice and but few in number, and the -wines of the best quality. Let the order of serving be from the more -substantial to the lighter." Let the eating proceed without hurry or -bustle, since the dinner is the last business of the day; and let the -guests look upon themselves as travellers about to reach the same -destination together. - -A dinner is not, as we see, a matter of butler or _chef_ alone. "It is -the personal trouble which a host and hostess are willing to take; it -is the intimate association of a cultivated nature with the practical -business of entertaining, which makes the perfect dinner. - -"Conviviality concerns everything, hence it produces fruits of all -flavours. All the ingenuity of man has been for centuries concentrated -upon increasing and intensifying the pleasures of the table." - -The Greeks used flowers to adorn vases and to crown the guests. They -ate under the vault of heaven, in gardens, in groves, in the presence -of all the marvels of nature. To the pleasures of the table were -joined the charms of music and the sound of instruments. Whilst the -court of the king of the Phoenicians were feasting, Phenius, a -minstrel, celebrated the deeds of the warriors of bygone times. Often, -too, dancers and jugglers and comic actors, of both sexes and in every -costume, came to engage the eye, without lessening the pleasures of -the table. - -We eat in heated rooms, too much heated perhaps, and brilliantly -lighted, as they should be. The present fancy for shaded lamps, and -easily ignitible shades, leads to impromptu conflagrations which are -apt to injure Saint Table-Cloth. That poor martyr is burned at the -steak quite too often. Our dancers and jugglers are introduced after -dinner, not during dinner; and we have our warriors at the table -amongst the guests. Nor do we hire Phenius, a minstrel, to discourse -of their great deeds. - -I copy from a recent paper the following remarks. Mr. Elbridge T. -Gerry, says: "There are in society some newly admitted members who, -with the best intentions imaginable, are never able to do things in -just the proper style. They are persons of wealth, fairly good -breeding and possessed of a desire to entertain. With all the -good-humoured witticisms that the newspapers indulge in on this -subject, it is nevertheless a fact that the art of entertaining -requires deep and careful study, as well as natural aptitude." - -Some of the greatest authors have stated this in poetry and prose. - -"A typical member of this new class recently gave a dinner to a number -of persons in society. It was a very dull affair. There was -prodigality in everything, but no taste, and no refinement. The fellow -amused me by telling us he had no trouble in getting up a fine dinner; -he had only to tell his butler and _chef_ to get up a meal for so many -persons, and the whole thing was done. There are few persons fortunate -enough to possess _chefs_ and butlers of that kind; he certainly was -not. Of the persons who attended his dinner, nine out of ten were -displeased and will never attend another. It does not take long for -the experienced member of society to know whether a host or hostess is -qualified to entertain, and the climbers soon find it a hard piece of -business to secure guests." - -But on the other hand, we can reason that so fond of the various modes -of gastronomic gratification is the human race, that the dinner giver -is a very popular variety of the _genus homo_; nor does the host or -hostess generally find it a hard matter to secure guests. Indeed -there is a vulgar proverb to the effect that if the Devil gives a -ball, all the angels will go to it. - -"If you want an animal to love you, feed it." So that the host can -stand a great deal of criticism. We should, however, take a hint from -the Arabs, nor abuse the salt; it is almost worse than spilling it. - -Lady Morgan described the cookery of France as being "the standard and -gauge of modern civilization;" and when, during the peace which -followed Waterloo, Brillat Savarin turned his thoughts to the -aesthetics of the dinner-table, he probably added more largely to the -health and happiness of the human race than any other known -philanthropist. We must not forget what had gone before in the -developments and refinements of the reigns of Louis XIV., XV., and the -Regent; we must not forget the honour done to gastronomy by such -statesmen as Colbert, such soldiers as Conde, nor by such a wit and -beauty as Madame de Sevigne. - - - - -OF SOUPS. - - "Oh, a splendid soup is the true pea-green, - I for it often call, - And up it comes, in a smart tureen, - When I dine in my banquet hall. - When a leg of mutton at home is boiled, - The liquor I always keep, - And in that liquor, before 't is spoiled, - A peck of peas I steep; - When boiled till tender they have been - I rub through a sieve the peas so green. - - "Though the trouble the indolent may shock, - I rub with all my power, - And having returned them to the stock, - I stew them for an hour; - Of younger peas I take some more, - The mixture to improve, - Thrown in a little time before - The soup from the fire I move. - Then seldom a better soup is seen - Than the old familiar soup pea-green." - - -The best of this poetical recipe is that it is not only funny, but a -capital formula. - - "The giblet may tire, the gravy pall, - And the truth may lose its charm; - But the green pea triumphs over them all - And does not the slightest harm." - -Some of us, however, prefer turtle. It would seem sometimes as if -turtle soup were the synonym for a good dinner, and as if it dated -back to the days of good Queen Bess. But fashion did not set its seal -on turtle soup until about seventy years ago; as an entry in the -"Gentleman's Magazine" mentions calipash and calipee as rarities. It -is now inseparable from the Lord Mayor's dinner. When we notice -ninety-nine recipes for soup in the latest French cookery book, and -when we see the fate of a dinner made or marred by the first dish, we -must concede that it will be a stumbling-block to the young -housekeeper. - -Add to that the curious fact that no Irishwoman can make a good soup -until she has been taught by years of experience, and we have the -first problem in the dangerous process of dinner-giving staring us in -the face. A greasy, watery, ill-considered soup will take away the -appetite of even a hungry man; while a delicate white or brown soup, -or the _purees_ of peas and asparagus, may well whet the appetite of -the most pampered _gourmet_. - -The subject of soup-making may well be studied. A good soup is at once -economical and healthful, and of the first importance in the -construction of a dinner. Soup should be made the day before it is to -be eaten, by boiling either a knuckle of veal for a white soup, three -or four pounds of beef, with the bone well cracked, for a clear -_consomme_, or by putting the bones of fish, chickens, and meat into -water with salt and pepper, and thus making an economical soup, which -may, however, be very good. The French put everything into the soup -pot,--bones, scraps, pot liquor, the water in which onions have been -boiled, in fact in which all vegetables including beans and potatoes -have been boiled; even as a French writer says "rejected MSS. may be -thrown into the soup pot;" and the result in France is always good. It -is to be observed that every soup should be allowed to cool, and all -the fat should be skimmed off, so that the residuum may be as clear as -wine. - -Delicate soups, clear _consomme_, and white soups _a la Reine_, are -great favourites in America, but in England they make a strong, -savoury article, which they call gravy soup. It is well to know how to -prepare this, as it makes a variety. - - Cut two pounds of beef from the neck into dice, and fry until - brown. Break small two or three pounds of bones, and fry - lightly. Bones from which streaked bacon has been cut make an - excellent addition, but too many must not be used, lest the - soup be salt. Slice and fry brown a pound of onions, put them - with the meat and bones and three quarts of cold water into - the soup pot; let it boil up, and having skimmed add two large - turnips, a carrot cut in slices, a small bundle of sweet - herbs, and a half a dozen pepper-corns. Let the soup boil - gently for four or five hours, and about one hour before it is - finished add a little piece of celery, or celery-seed tied in - muslin. This is a most delicious flavour. When done, strain - the soup and set it away for a night to get cold. Remove the - fat and next day let it boil up, stirring in two spoonfuls of - corn starch, moistened with cold water. Season with salt and - pepper to taste, not too salt; add forcemeat balls to the - soup, and you have a whole dinner in your soup. - -An oxtail soup is made like the above, only adding the tail, which is -divided into joints, which are fried brown. Then these joints should -be boiled until the meat comes easily off the bones. When the soup is -ready put in two lumps of sugar, a glass of port wine, and pour all -into the tureen. - -The Julienne soup, so delicious in summer, should be a nice clear -stock, with the addition of prepared vegetables. Unless the cook can -buy the excellent compressed vegetables which are to be had at the -Italian warehouses, it is well to follow this order:-- - - Wash and scrape a large carrot, cut away all the yellow parts - from the middle, and slice the red outside. Take an equal - quantity of turnips and three small onions, cut in a similar - manner. Put them in a stewpan with two ounces of butter and a - pinch of powdered sugar, stir over the fire until a nice brown - colour, then add a quart of clear, well-flavoured stock, and - let all simmer together gently for three hours. When done, - skim the fat off very carefully, and ten minutes before - serving add a lettuce cut in shreds and blanched for a minute - in boiling water. Simmer for five minutes and the soup will be - ready. This is a most excellent soup if well made. - -Mock-turtle soup is easily made:-- - - Boil the bones of the head three hours, add a piece of gravy - meat cut in dice and fried brown, three onions sliced and - fried brown, a carrot, a turnip, celery, and a small bundle of - sweet herbs; boil gently for three hours and take off the fat. - When it is ready to be served add a glass of sherry and slices - of lemon. The various parts of a calf's-head can be cooked and - used as forcemeat balls, and made to look exactly like turtle. - This soup is found canned and is almost as good as the real - article. - -Dried-pea soup, _creme d'asperge_, and bean soup, in fact all the -_purees_, are very healthful and elegant soups. The _puree_ is the -mashed mass of pea or bean, which is added to the stock. - - Boil a pint of large peas in a quart of water with a sprig of - parsley or mint, and a dozen or so of green onions. When the - peas are done strain and rub them through a sieve, put the - _puree_ back into the liquor the peas were boiled in, add a - pint of good veal or beef broth, a lump of sugar, and pepper - and salt to taste. Let the soup get thoroughly hot without - boiling, stir in an ounce of good butter, and the soup is - ready. - -A plain but quick and delicious soup may be made by using a can of -corn, with a small piece of pork. This warmed up quickly, with a -little milk added, is very good. - -As for a _creme d'asperge_, it is better to employ a _chef_ to teach -the new cook. - -Mulligatawny soup is a visitor from India. It should not be too strong -of curry powder for the average taste. The stock should be made of -chicken or veal, or the liquor in which chickens have been boiled. - - Slice and fry in butter six large onions, add four sharp, sour - apples, cored and quartered, but not peeled. Let them boil in - a little of the stock until quite tender, then mix with them a - quarter of a pound of flour, and a small teaspoonful of curry - powder. Take a quart of the stock and when the soup has boiled - skim it; let it simmer for half an hour, then carefully take - off all the fat, strain the soup, and rub the onions through a - sieve. When ready to heat the soup for the dinner-table add - any pieces of meat or chicken cut into small, delicate shapes. - When these have been boiled together for ten minutes the soup - will be ready; salt to taste. Boiled rice should be sent in on - a separate dish. - -Sorrel soup is a great favourite with the French people. We do not -make enough of sorrel in this country; it adds an excellent flavour. - - Carefully wash a pound of sorrel, and having picked, cut it in - shreds, put it into a stewpan with two ounces of fresh butter - and stir it over the fire for ten minutes. Stir in an ounce of - flour, mix well together and add a pint and a half of good - white stock made as for veal broth. Let it simmer for half an - hour. Having skimmed the soup, stir in the yolks of three eggs - beaten up in half a pint of milk or cream. Stir in a little - pat of butter, and when dissolved pour the whole over thin - pieces of toasted bread into the tureen. - -With the large family of the broths every housewife should become -acquainted. They are invaluable for the sick, especially broths of -chicken and mutton. For veal broth the following is an elaborate, but -excellent recipe: - - Get three or four pounds of scrag, or a knuckle of veal, - chopped into small pieces, also a ham bone, or slice of ham, - and cover with water; let it boil up, skim it until no more - rises. Put in four or five onions, a turnip, and later a bit - of celery or celery seed tied in muslin, a little salt, and - white pepper. Let it boil gently for four hours; strain the - gravy and having taken off all the fat return the residue to - the pot and let it boil; then slightly thicken with corn - flour, about one teaspoonful to a quart of soup; let it simmer - before serving. Three pounds of veal should make two quarts of - good soup. - -A sheep's-head soup is famous all over Scotland and is made as -follows:-- - - Get the head of a sheep with the skin on, soak it in tepid - water, take out the tongue and brains, break all the thin - bones inside the cheek, and carefully wash it in several - waters; put it on in a quart of water with a teaspoonful of - salt and let it boil ten minutes. Pour away this water and put - two quarts more with one pound of a scrag of mutton; add, cut - up, six onions, two turnips, two carrots, a sprig of parsley, - and season with pepper and salt. Let it boil gently for four - or five hours, when the head and neck will not be too much - cooked for the family dinner, and may be served either with - parsley or onion sauce. It is a most savoury morsel. Strain - the soup, and let it cool so as to remove every particle of - fat. Rub the vegetables through a sieve to a fine _puree_. Mix - a tablespoonful of flour in a quarter of a pint of milk; make - the soup boil up and stir it in with the vegetables. - - Have the tongue boiled until it is very tender, skin and trim - it, have the brains also well cooked, and chop and pound them - very fine with the tongue, mix them with an equal weight of - sifted bread-crumbs, a tablespoonful of chopped green - parsley, pepper, salt, and egg, and if necessary a small - quantity of flour to enable you to roll the mixture into - little balls. Put an ounce of butter into a small frying-pan - and fry the balls until a nice brown, lay them on paper before - the fire to drain away all the fat, and put them into the soup - after it is poured into the tureen. Scald and chop some green - parsley and serve separately on a plate. - -Thackeray thought so much of a boiled sheep's head that he made it the -point of one of his humorous poems. - - "By that grand vow that bound thee - Forever to my side, - And by the ring that made thee - My darling and my bride! - Thou wilt not fail or falter - But bend thee to the task-- - A boiled sheep's head on Sunday - Is all the boon I ask!" - -In France, cabbage is much used in soup. - - "Ha, what is this that rises to my touch - So like a cushion--can it be a cabbage? - It is, it is, that deeply inspired flower - Which boys do flout us with, but yet--I love thee, - Thou giant rose, wrapped in a green surtout. - Doubtless in Eden thou didst blush as bright - As these thy puny brethren, and thy breath - Sweetened the fragrance of her spicy air; - And now thou seemst like a bankrupt beau - Stripped of his gaudy hues and essences, - And growing portly in his sober garments." - -The cabbage is without honour in America; and yet if boiled in water -which is thrown away, having absorbed all its grosser essences, and -then boiled again and chopped and dressed with butter and cream, it is -an excellent vegetable. Its disagreeable odour has led to its -expulsion from many a house, but corn-beef and cabbage are not to be -despised. - -Cauliflower, which Thackeray calls the "apotheosis of cabbage," is the -most delicate of vegetables; and a _puree_ of cauliflower shall close -our chapter on soups. - - Boil in salted water, using a small piece of butter, two heads - of cauliflower, drain and pass them through a colander, dilute - with two quarts of sauce and a quart of chicken broth, season - with salt, white pepper, and grated nutmeg. Add a teaspoonful - of fine white sugar, then pass the whole forcibly with a - wooden presser through a fine sieve,--the finer the sieve the - better the _puree_. Put the residue in a stewpan, set it on - the fire, stir all the while till it boils, let it boil for - ten minutes, strain well, add a mixture made with the yolks of - six eggs and half a pint of cream, finish with four ounces of - table butter, and serve with small, fried, square _croutons_. - -A _puree_ of celery is equally excellent; but all these soups require -an intelligent cook. It is better to have one's cook taught to make -soups by an expert, for it is the most difficult of all the dishes, if -thoroughly good. The plain soup, free from grease and well flavoured, -is easy enough after a little training, "but the chief ingredient of -soup is brains," according to a London _chef_. It is, however, a good -practice for an amateur cook to experiment and to try these various -recipes, all of which are practicable. - - - - -FISH. - - What is thy diet? Canst thou gulf a shoal - Of herrings? Or hast thou gorge and room - To bolt fat porpoises and dolphins whole - By dozens, e'en as oysters we consume? - PUNCH. - - The world's mine oyster, which I with sword will open. - HOTSPUR. - - -The Egyptians, strange to say, did not deify fish, that important -article of their food. We read of the enormous yield of Lake Moeris, -which was dammed up by the great Rameses, and whose draught of fishes -brought him so enormous a revenue. - -One of the most fascinating of all the Egyptian Queens, Sonivaphra, -received the revenues of one of these fisheries to keep her in -shoe-strings,--probably another name for pin money. - -And yet the Egyptians, while mummying the cats and dogs and beetles, -and such small deer, made no gods of the good carp or other fish which -must have stocked the river Nile. They emblazoned the crocodile on -their monuments, but never a fish. It is a singular foreshadowing of -that great vice of the human race, ingratitude. - -The Romans were fond of fish, and the records of their gastronomy -abound in fish stories. We read of Licinius Crassus, the orator, that -he lived in a house of great elegance and beauty. This house was -called the "Venus of the Palatine," and was remarkable for its size, -the taste of the furniture, and the beauty of the grounds. It was -adorned with pillars of Hymettian marbles, with expensive vases and -_triclinia_ inlaid with brass; his gardens were provided with -fish-ponds, and noble lotus-trees shaded his walks. Abenobarbus, his -colleague in the censorship, found fault with such luxury, such -"corruption of manners," and complained of his crying for the loss of -a lamprey as if it had been a favourite daughter! - -This, however, was a tame lamprey, which used to come to the call of -Crassus and feed out of his hand. Crassus retorted by a public speech -against his colleague, and by his great power of ridicule turned him -into derision, jested upon his name, and to the accusation of weeping -for a lamprey, replied that it was more than Abenobarbus had done for -the loss of any of his three wives! - -In the sixteenth century, that golden age of the Vatican, the splendid -court of Leo X. was the centre of artistic and literary life, and the -witty and pleasure-loving Pope made its gardens the scene of his -banquets and concerts, where he listened to the recitations of the -poets who sprung up under his protection. There beneath the shadow of -the ilex and the lauristines, in a circle so refined that ladies were -admitted, Leo himself leaned on the shoulder of the handsome Raphael, -who was allowed to caress and admire the Medicean white hand of his -noble patron. We read that this famous Pope was so fastidious as to -the fish dinners of Lent, that he invented twenty different recipes -for the chowder of that day! Walking in disguise with Raphael through -the fish-market, he espied a boy who, on his knees, was presenting a -fish to a pretty _contadina_. The scene took form and immortality in -the famous _Vierge au Poisson_, in which, conducted by the Angel -Gabriel, the youthful Saint John presents the fish to the Virgin and -child,--a beautiful picture for the church whose patron saint was a -fisherman. - -Indeed, that picture of the sea of Galilee, and the sacred meaning -attached to the etymology of the word "fish," has given the finny -wanderer of the seas a peculiar and valuable personality. All this, -with the selection by our Lord of so many of his disciples from -amongst the fishermen, the many poetical associations which form -around this, the cheapest and most delicate form of food with which -the Creator has stocked this world of ours, would, if followed out, -afford a volume of suggestion, quotation, poetry, and romance with -which to embellish the art of entertaining. - -Fish is now believed to produce aliment for the brain, and as such is -recommended to all authors and editors, statesmen, poets and lawyers, -clergymen and mathematicians,--all who draw on that finer fibre of the -brain which is used for the production of poetry or prose. - -England is famed for its good fish, as why should it not be, with the -ocean around it? The turbot is, _par excellence_, the fish for a Lord -Mayor's dinner, and it is admirable _a la creme_ for anybody's dinner. -Excellent is the whitebait of Richmond, that mysterious little dwarf. -Eaten with slices of brown bread and butter it is a very delicious -morsel, and the whiting, which always comes to the table with his tail -in his mouth, beautifully browned outside, white as snow within, what -so excellent as a whiting, except a _sole au gratin_ with sauce -Tartare? - -Fresh herrings in Scotland are delicious, almost equal to the red -mullets which Caesar once ate at Marseilles. The fresh sardines at -Nice, and all along the Mediterranean, are very delicate, as are the -thousand shell-fish. The langoose, or large lobster of France and the -Mediterranean, is a surprise to the American traveller. Not so -delicate as our American lobster, it still is admirable for a salad. -It is so large that the flesh--if a fish has flesh--can be sliced up -and served like cold roast turkey. - -The salmon, king of fish, inspires in his capture, in Scotland rivers, -in Labrador, in Canada, some of the best writing of the day. William -Black, in Scotland, and Dr. Wier Mitchell, of Philadelphia, can tell -stories of salmon-fishing which are as brilliant as Victor Hugo's -description of Waterloo, or of that mysterious jelly-fish in his -novel, "The Toilers of the Sea." - -The New York market boasts the red snapper, the sheepshead, the -salmon, the salmon-trout, the Spanish mackerel, most toothsome of -viands, the sea bass, cod, halibut, the shad, the greatest profusion -of excellent oysters and clams, the cheap pan-fish, and endless eels. -The French make many fine dishes of eels, as the Romans did. - -To be good, fish must be fresh. It is absolutely indispensable, to -retain certain flavours, that the fish should go from one element to -another, out of the water into the fire, and onto the gridiron or into -the frying pan as soon as possible. Therefore, if the housewife has a -fish seasonable and fresh, and a gridiron, she can make a good dish -for a hungry man. - -We shall begin with the cheapest of the products of the water, and -although they may squirm out of our hands, try to bring to the table -the despised eels. - -An old proverb said that matrimony was a bag in which there were -ninety-nine snakes and one eel, and the young lady who put her hand -into this agreeable company had small chance at the eel. It would seem -at first blush as if no one would care particularly for the eel. In -old England, eels were exceedingly popular, and the monks dearly loved -to feed upon them. The cellarist of Barking Abbey, Essex, in the -ancient times of monastic foundations, was, amongst other eatables, to -provide stewed eels in Lent and to bake eels on Shrove Tuesday. There -were artificial receptacles made for eels. The cruel custom of salting -eels alive is mentioned by some old writers. - -"When the old serpent appeared in the guise of a stewed eel it was -impossible to resist him." - - Eels _en matelote_ should be cut in three-inch pieces, and - salted; fry an onion brown in a little dripping, add half a - pint of broth to the brown onion, part of a bay leaf, six - broken pepper-corns, four whole cloves, and a gill of claret. - Add the eels to this and simmer until thoroughly cooked. - Remove the eels, put them on a hot dish, add a teaspoonful of - brown flour to the sauce, strain and pour over the eels. - Spatch-cooked eels are good. - - _Fricasseed eels_: Cut three pounds of eels into pieces of - three inches in length, put them into a stewpan, and cover - them with Rhine wine, or two thirds water and one third - vinegar; add fifteen oysters, two pieces of lemon, a bouquet - of herbs, one onion quartered, six cloves, three stalks of - celery, a pinch of cayenne pepper, and salt to taste. Stew the - eels one hour, remove them from the dish, strain the liquor. - Put it back into the saucepan with a gill of cream and an - ounce of butter rolled in flour, simmer gently a few minutes, - pour over the fish, and you have a dish for a king. - -Stewed eels are great favourites with _gourmets_, cooked as -follows:-- - - Cut into three-inch pieces two pounds of medium-sized cleaned - eels. Rub the inside of each piece with salt. Let them stand - half an hour, then parboil them. Boil an onion in a quart of - milk and remove the onion. Drain the eels from the water and - add them to the milk. Season with half a teaspoonful of - chopped parsley, salt and pepper, and the smallest bit of - mace. Simmer until the flesh falls from the bones. - -Fried eels should be slightly salted before cooking. Do not cover them -with batter, but dredge them with just flour enough to absorb all -moisture, then cover them with boiling lard. - -As for the thousand and one recipes for cooking an oyster, no one need -tell an American hostess much on that subject. Raw, roasted, boiled, -stewed, scalloped and baked in patties, what so savoury as the oyster? -They should be bought alive, and opened with care by an expert, for -the bits of shell are dangerous. If eaten raw, pieces of lemon should -be served with them. Plates of majolica to hold five or seven oysters -are now to be bought at all the best crockery stores. - -To stew oysters well, cream and butter should be added, and the whole -mixture done in a silver dish over an alcohol lamp. Broiled oysters -should be dipped first in melted butter, then in bread crumbs, then -put in a very fine wire gridiron, and broiled over a bright bed of -coals. Scalloped oysters should be carefully dried with a clean -napkin, then laid in a deep dish on a bed of crumbs and fresh butter, -all softened by the liquor of the oyster; a layer of oysters and a -layer of crumbs should follow each other, with little walnuts of -butter put between. The mixture should be put in a very hot oven and -baked a delicate brown, but not dried. - -The plain fried oyster is very popular, but it should not be cooked -in small houses just before an entertainment, as the odour is not -appetizing. To dip them in egg batter, then in bread-crumbs, and fry -them in drippings is a common and good fashion. A more elaborate -fashion is to beat up the yolks of four eggs with three tablespoonfuls -of sweet oil, and season them with a teaspoonful of salt, and a -saltspoonful of cayenne pepper. Beat up thoroughly, dip each oyster in -this mixture and then in bread crumbs, and fry in hot oil. The best -and most elegant way of cooking an oyster is, however, "_a la -poulette_." - - Scald the oysters in their own liquor, drain them, and add to - the liquor, salt, half an ounce of butter, the juice of half a - lemon, a gill of cream, and a teaspoonful of dissolved flour. - Beat the yolk of one egg, and add to the sauce, stir until the - sauce thickens; place the oysters on a hot dish, pour the - sauce over them, add a little chopped parsley and serve. - -A simpler and more primitive but excellent way of cooking oysters is -to clean the shells thoroughly, and place them in the coals in an open -fireplace, or to roast them in hot ashes until the shells snap open. - -When the oyster departs then the clam takes his place, and is -delicious as an _avant gout_ or an appetizer at a dinner. If clams are -broiled they must be done quickly, else they become hard and -indigestible. - -The soft-shell clam, scalloped, makes a good dish. Clean the shells -well, then put two clams to each shell, with half a teaspoonful of -minced celery. Cut a slice of fat bacon small, add a little to each -shell, put bread crumbs on top and a little pat of butter, bake in the -oven until brown. A clam broth is a delicious and healthful beverage -for sick or well; add cream and a spoonful of sherry to it, and it -becomes a fabulously fine thing. In this mixture the clams must be -strained out before the cream and wine are added. - -But if the clam is good what shall we say of crabs. Hard-shell crabs -must be boiled about twelve minutes, drained, and set away to cool. -Eaten with sandwiches and a dressing they are considered a delicacy -for supper. They can be more cooked with chopped eggs, or treated like -a chicken pasty, and cooked in a paste shell they are very good. - -Take half an ounce of butter, half an onion minced, half a pound of -minced raw veal, and a small carrot shredded, a chopped crab, a pint -of boiling cream; simmer an hour, then strain into a saucepan, and -what a sauce you have! - -The soft-shell crab is an invalid. He is caught when he is helpless, -feverish, and not at all, one would say, healthy. He is killed by the -jarring of the train, by thunder, by some passing noisy cart, and some -say by a fall in stocks, or a sudden change in political circles. - -Such sensitive creatures must be cooked as soon as possible. It is -only necessary to remove the feathery substance under the pointed -sides of the shells, rinse them in cold water, drain, season with salt -and pepper, dredge them in flour and fry in hot fat. Crab patties and -crabs cooked in any other way than this fail to please the epicure. -Nothing with so pronounced an individuality as a soft-shelled crab -should be disguised. - -A devilled crab is considered good, but it should be cooked by a negro -expert from Maryland. - -Scallops are essentially good in stews, or fried, and when, cut in -small pieces, with a pint of milk, a little butter, and a little salt, -they again return to their beautiful shells and are baked as a -scallop, they are delicious. Put in pork fat, and fried, they are also -very fine. - -The lobster is now considered very healthful, and as conveying more -phosphorus into the human system than any other fish. Broiled, -devilled, stewed, cooked in a fashion called _Bourdelaise_, it is the -most delicious of dishes, and as a salad what can equal it? - -A baked whitefish with Bordeaux sauce is very fine. - - Clean and stuff the fish with bread-crumbs, onions, butter, - and sweet marjoram. Put it in a baking pan, add a liberal - quantity of butter previously rolled in flour, put in the pan - a pint of claret, and bake for an hour. Remove the fish and - strain the gravy, put in a teaspoonful of brown flour and a - pinch of cayenne pepper. - -Halibut with an egg sauce and a border of parsley is a dish for a -banquet, only the cook must know how to make egg sauce. Supposing we -tell her? - - Put two ounces of butter in a stew-pan; when it melts, add one - ounce of flour. Stir for one minute or more, but do not brown. - Then add by degrees two gills of boiling water, stirring until - smooth, and boiling about two minutes. If not perfectly - smooth, pass it through a sieve; then add another ounce of - butter cut in pieces. When the butter is melted, add three - hard-boiled eggs, chopped not too fine, season with pepper and - salt, and serve immediately. - -This sauce is admirable for cod, and for all boiled fish. - -But the "perfectest thing on earth" is a broiled fish, a shad for -instance; and one of the best preventives against burning is to rub -olive oil on the fish before putting it on the gridiron. Charcoal -affords the best fire, and it must be free from all smoke and flame. - -A little sweet butter, half a teaspoonful of chopped parsley and the -juice of a lemon should be melted together, and stand ready to be -poured over the broiled fish. - -Mr. Lowell, in one of his delightful, witty papers in the Atlantic -Monthly years ago, regretted that he could not find a gridiron near -the St. Lawrence, although its patron saint suffered martyrdom on that -excellent kitchen utensil. It is a lamentable fact that wood fires and -gridirons are giving out. They contain within themselves the merits of -all the kitchen ranges, all the lost juices of that early American -cookery, which one who has tasted it can never forget. Where are the -broils of our childhood? - -Codfish is a family stand-by, but a tasteless fish unless covered with -oysters or something very good; but salt-codfish balls are a great -luxury. - -Brook trout, boiled, baked, and broiled, are all inferior to the fry. -The frying-pan has to answer for a multitude of sins, but nothing so -base can be found as to deprive it of its great glory in sending us a -fried brook-trout. "Clean and rinse a quarter-of-a-pound trout in cold -water," says one recipe. - -Why not a pound-and-a-quarter trout? The recipe begins later on: after -some pork has been fried in the pan, throw in your carefully cleaned -fish, no matter what their weight may be, turn them three times most -carefully. Send to table without adding or detracting from their -flavour. - -This is for the sportsman who cooks his trout himself by a wood fire -in the woods; and no other man ever arrives at just that perfect way -of cooking a trout. When the trout has come down from cooling springs -to the hot city, it requires a seasoning of salt, pepper, and -lemon-juice. - -Frogs--frogs as cooked in France, _grenouilles a la poulette_--are a -most luxurious delicacy. They are very expensive and are to be bought -at the _marche St. Honore_. As only the hind legs are eaten, and the -price is fifteen francs a dozen, they are not often seen. We might -have them in this country for the catching. Of their tenderness, -succulence, and delicacy of flavour there can be no question. They are -clean feeders, and undoubtedly wholesome. - -Sala, writing in "Breakfasts in Bed" does not praise _bouillabaisse_. -He declares that the cooks plunge a rolling-pin in tallow and then -with it stir that _pot pourri_ of red mullet, tomatoes, red pepper, -red Burgundy, oil, and garlic to which Thackeray has written so -delightful a lyric. "Against fish soups, turtle, terrapin, oyster, and -bisque," he says, "I can offer no objection." The Italians again have -their good _zuppa marinara_, which is not all like the _bouillabaisse_, -and the Russians make a very appetizing fish pottage which is called -_batwina_, the stock of which is composed of _kraus_, or half-brewed -barley beer, and oil. Into this is put the fish known as the sterlet -of the Volga, or the sassina of the Gulf of Finland, together with bay -leaves, pepper, and lumps of ice. _Batwina_ is better than -_bouillabaisse_. - - - - -THE SALAD. - - "Epicurean cooks shall sharpen with cloyless sauce the - appetite." - - -Of all the vegetables of which a salad can be made, lettuce is the -greatest favourite. That lettuce which is _panachee_, says the -_Almanach des Gourmands_, that is, when it has streaked or variegated -leaves, is truly _une salade de distinction_. We prefer in this -country the fine, crisp, solid little heads, of which the leaves are -bright green. The milky juices of the lettuce are soporific, like -opium seeds, and predispose the eater to sleep, or to repose of temper -and to philosophic thought. - -After, or before, lettuce comes the fragrant celery, always an -appetizer. Then the tomato, a noble fruit as sweet in smell as Araby -the blest, which makes an illustrious salad. Its medicinal virtue is -as great as its gastronomical goodness. It is the friend of the well, -for it keeps them well, and the friend of the sick, for it brings them -back to the lost sheep-folds of hygeia. - -There are water-cress and dandelion, common mustard, boiled asparagus, -and beet root, potato salad, beloved of the Germans, the cucumber, -most fragrant and delicate of salads, a salad of eggs, of lobsters, of -chickens, sausages, herrings, and sardines. Anything that is edible -can be made into a salad, and a vegetable mixture of cold French -beans, boiled peas, carrots and potato, onion, green peppers, and -cucumber, covered with fresh mayonnaise dressing, is served ice cold -in France, to admiration. - -To learn to make a salad is the most important of qualifications for -one who would master the art of entertaining. - -Here is a good recipe for the dressing:-- - - Two yolks of eggs, a teaspoonful of salt, and three of - mustard,--it should have been mixed with hot water before - using,--a little cayenne pepper, a spoonful of vinegar; pound - the eggs and mix well. Common vinegar is preferred by many, - but some like tarragon vinegar better. Stir this gently for a - minute, then add two full spoonfuls of best oil of Lucca. - - "A sage for the mustard, a miser for the vinegar, a - spendthrift for the oil, and a madman to stir" is the old saw. - Add a teaspoonful of brown sugar, half a dozen little spring - onions cut fine, three or four slices of beet root, the white - of the egg, not cut too small, and then the lettuce itself, - which should be torn from the head stock by the fingers. - -Some French salad dressers say _fatiguez la salade_, which means, -shake it, mix it, and bruise it; but the modern arrangement is to -delicately cover the leaves with the dressing, and not to bruise them. -This is an old-fashioned salad. - -An excellent salad of cold boiled potatoes cut into slices about an -inch thick, may be made with thin slices of fresh beet root, and -onions cut very thin, and very little of them, with the same dressing, -minus the sugar. - -Francatelli speaks of a Russian salad with lobster, a German salad -with herrings, and an Italian salad with potatoes; but these come more -under the head of the mayonnaises than of the simpler salads. - -The cucumber comes next to lettuce, as a purely vegetable salad, and -is most desirable with fish. Dr. Johnson declared that the best thing -you could do with a cucumber, after you had prepared it with much care -and thought, was to throw it out of the window; but Dr. Johnson, -although he could write Rasselas and a dictionary, knew nothing about -the art of entertaining. He was an eater, a glutton, a _gourmand_, not -a _gourmet_. How should he dare to speak against a cucumber salad? - -Endive and chiccory should be added to the list of vegetable salads. -Neither of them is good, however. - -An old-fashioned French salad is made thus: "Chop three anchovies, an -onion, and some parsley small; put them in a bowl with two -tablespoonfuls of vinegar, one of oil, a little mustard and salt. When -well mixed, add some slices of cold roast beef not exceeding two or -three inches long. Make three hours before eating. Garnish with -parsley." This is by no means a bad way of serving up yesterday's -roast beef. - -The etymology of salad is said to be "sal," or something salted. -Shakspeare mentions the salad five or six times. In Henry VI., Jack -Cade, in his extremity of peril when hiding from his pursuers in Ida's -garden, says he has climbed over the wall to see if he could eat -grass, or pick a salad, which he says "will not come amiss to cool a -man's stomach in the hot weather." In Antony and Cleopatra, the -passionate queen speaks of her "salad days" when she was "green in -judgment, cool in blood." This means, however, something raw or -unripe. Hamlet uses the word with the more ancient orthography of -"sallet," and says in his speech to the players, "I remember when -there were no sallets in these times to make them savoury." By this he -meant there was nothing piquant in them, no Attic salt. One author, -not so illustrious, claims that the noblest prerogative of man is -that he is a cooking animal, and a salad eater. - -"The lion is generous as a hero, the rat artful as a lawyer, the dove -gentle as a lover, the beaver is a good engineer, the monkey is a -clever actor, but none of them can make a salad. The wisest sheep -never thought of culling and testing his grasses, seasoning them with -thyme or tarragon, softening them with oil, exasperating them with -mustard, sharpening them with vinegar, spiritualizing them with a -suspicion of onions, in that no sheep has made a salad. Their only -sauce is hunger. - -"Salads," says this pleasant writer, "were invented by Adam and -Eve,--probably made of pomegranates as to-day in Spain." - -Of all salads, lobster is the most picturesque and beautiful. Its very -scarlet is a trumpet tone to appetite. It lies embedded in green -leaves like a magnificent tropical cactus. A good dressing for lobster -is essence of anchovy, mushroom ketchup, hard-boiled eggs, and a -little cream. - -Mashed potatoes, rubbed down with cream, or simply mixed with vinegar, -are no bad substitute for eggs, and impart to the salad a new and not -unpleasing flavour. French beans, the most delicate of vegetables, -give the salad eater a new sensation. A dressing can be mixed in the -following proportions: "Four mustard ladles of mustard, four salt -ladles of salt. Three spoonfuls of best Italian oil, twelve of -vinegar, three unboiled eggs. All are to be carefully rubbed -together." This is for those who like sours and not sweets. An old -French _emigre_, who had to make his living in England during the time -of the Regency, a man of taste and refinement, an epicurean Marquis, -carried to noblemen's houses his mahogany box full of essences, -spices, and condiments, and made his salad in this way: he chopped up -three anchovies with a little shallot and some parsley; these he threw -into a bowl with a little mustard and salt, two tablespoonfuls of oil, -and one brimming over with vinegar. When thoroughly merged he added -his lettuce, or celery, or potato, extremely thin, short slices of -best Westphalia ham, or the finest roast beef, which he had steeped in -the vinegar. He garnished with parsley and a few layers of bacon. This -man was called _Le Roi de la salade_. - -A cod mayonnaise is a good dish:-- - - Boil a large cod in the morning. Let it cool; then remove the - skin and bones. For sauce put some thick cream in a porcelain - sauce-pan and thicken it with corn-flour which has been mixed - with cold water. When it begins to boil stir in the beaten - yolks of two eggs. As it cools beat it well to prevent it from - being lumpy, and when nearly cold stir in the juice of two - lemons, a little tarragon vinegar, a pinch of salt, and a - _soupcon_ of cayenne pepper. Peel and slice some very ripe - tomatoes or cold potatoes, steep them in vinegar with cayenne, - pounded ginger, and plenty of salt. Lay these around the fish - and cover with cream sauce. The tomatoes and potatoes should - be carefully drained before they are placed around the fish. - -A salmon covered with a green sauce is a famous dish for a ball -supper; indeed, there are thirty or forty salads with a cold fish -foundation. - -This art of dressing cold vegetables with pepper, salt, oil, and -vinegar, should be studied. In France they give you these salads to -perfection at the _dejeuner a la fourchette_. Fillippini, of -Delmonico's, in his admirable work, "The Table," adds Swedish salad, -String Bean Salad, Russian Salad, Salad Macedoine, _Escarolle_, -_Doucette_, _Dandelion a la coutoise_, _Baib de Capucine_, -Cauliflower salad, and _Salad a l'Italian_. I advise any young -housekeeper to buy this book of his, as suggestive. It is too -elaborate and learned, however, for practical application to any -household except one in which a French cook is kept. - -A mayonnaise dressing is a triumph of art when well made:-- - - A tablespoonful of mustard, one teaspoonful of salt, the yolk - of three uncooked eggs, the juice of half a lemon, a quarter - of a cupful of butter, a pint of oil, and a cupful of whipped - cream. Beat the yolks and dry ingredients until they are very - light, with a wooden spoon or with a wire beater. The bowl in - which the dressing is being made should be set in a pan of ice - water. Add oil, a few drops at a time, until the dressing - becomes thick and rather hard. After it has reached this stage - the oil can be added more rapidly. When it gets so thick as to - be difficult to beat add a little vinegar, then add the juice - of the lemon and the whipped cream, and place on ice until - desired to be used. - -Another dressing can be made more quickly:-- - - The yolk of a raw egg, a tablespoonful of mixed mustard, one - fourth of a teaspoonful of salt, six tablespoonfuls of oil. - Stir the yolk, mustard, and salt together with a fork until - they begin to thicken; add the oil gradually, stirring all the - time. - -An excellent salad dressing is also made by using the yolk of -hard-boiled eggs, some cold mashed potatoes well pressed together with -a fork, oil, vinegar, mustard, and salt rubbed in, in the proportions -of two of oil to one of vinegar. - -A salad must be fresh and freshly made, to be good. Never serve a -salad the second day; and it is not well to cover a delicate salad -with too much mayonnaise. The very heart of the celery or the -delicate inner leaves of the lettuce are the best for dinners. The -heavy chicken and lobster, cabbage and potato salads, are dishes for -lunches and suppers. - -The chief employment of a kitchen maid, in France, where a man cook is -kept, is to wash the vegetables; and you see her swinging the salad in -a wire safe after washing it delicately in fresh water. The care -bestowed on these minor morals of cookery, so often wholly neglected, -adds the finishing touch to the excellence of a French dinner. - -For a green mayonnaise dressing, so much admired on salmon, use a -little chopped spinach and finely chopped parsley. The juice from -boiled beets can be used to make a fine red dressing. Two of these -dishes will make a plain, country lunch-table very nice, and will have -an appetizing effect, as has anything that betokens care, forethought, -neatness, and taste. - -Some people cannot eat oil. Often the best oil cannot be bought in a -retired and rural neighbourhood. But an excellent substitute is fresh -butter or clarified chicken-fat, very carefully prepared, and icy -cold. The yolks of four raw eggs, one tablespoonful of salt, one of -mustard, the juice of a lemon, and a speck of cayenne pepper should be -used. - -Two drops of onion juice, or a bit of onion sliced, will add great -piquancy to salad dressing, if every one likes onion. - -I have never tried the following recipe,--I have tried all the -others,--but I have heard that it was very good: - - Four tablespoonfuls of butter, one of flour, one tablespoonful - of salt, one of sugar, one heaping teaspoonful of mustard, a - speck of cayenne, one cupful of milk, half a cupful of - vinegar, three eggs. Let the butter get hot in a saucepan. Add - the flour and stir until smooth, being careful not to brown. - Add the milk and boil up. Place the saucepan in another of hot - water. Beat the eggs, salt, pepper, sugar, and mustard - together, and add the vinegar. Stir this into the boiling - mixture and stir until it thickens like soft custard, which - will be about five minutes. Set away to cool, and when cold, - bottle and place in the ice-chest. This will keep two weeks. - -If one wishes to use prepared mayonnaise it is better to buy that -which is sold at the grocers. It has not the charm of a fresh -dressing, however, but is rather like those elaborated impromptus -which some studied talkers get off. - -A very pretty salad can be made of nasturtium-blossoms, buttercups, a -head of lettuce, and a pint of water-cresses. It is to be covered with -the French dressing and eaten immediately. - -Asparagus is so good in itself that it seems a shame to dress it as a -salad; yet it is very good eaten with oil, vinegar, and salt. -Cauliflower, cold, is delicious as a salad, and can be made very -ornamental with a garniture of beet root, which is a good ingredient -for a salad of salt codfish, boiled. - -Sardine salads are very appetizing for lunch. Arrange a cold salmon or -codfish on a bed of lettuce. Split six sardines, remove the bones, and -mix them into the dressing. Garnish the whole dish with sardines, and -cover with the dressing. - -All kinds of cooked fish can be served with salads. Lettuce is the -best green salad to serve with them; but all cooked and cold -vegetables go well with fish. Add capers to the mayonnaise. - -A housekeeper who has conquered the salad question can always add to -the plainest dinner a desirable dish. She can feed the hungry, and she -can stimulate the most jaded fancy of the over-fastidious _gourmet_ by -these delicate and consummate luxuries. - -Here is Sydney Smith's recipe for a salad:-- - - "To make this condiment your poet begs - The pounded yellow of two hard-boiled eggs; - Two boiled potatoes, passed through kitchen sieve, - Smoothness and softness to the salad give. - Let onion atoms wink within the bowl, - And half suspected, animate the whole; - Of mordant mustard, add a single spoon, - (Distrust the condiment that bites too soon), - But deem it not, thou man of herbs, a fault, - To add a double quantity of salt. - Four times the spoon with oil of Lucca crown, - And twice with vinegar, procured from town; - And lastly, o'er the favoured compound toss - A magic _soupcon_ of anchovy sauce. - Oh, green and glorious! Oh, herbaceous treat! - 'T would tempt the dying anchorite to eat! - Back to the world would turn his fleeting soul, - To plunge his fingers in a salad bowl! - Serenely full, the epicure would say, - 'Fate cannot harm me,--I have dined to-day.'" - -LOBSTER SALAD. - - "Take, take lobsters and lettuces, - Mind that they send you the fish that you order; - Take, take a decent sized salad bowl, - One that's sufficiently deep in the border; - Cut into many a slice, - All of the fish that's nice; - Place in the bowl with due neatness and order; - Then hard-boiled eggs you may - Add in a neat array, - All toward the bowl, just by way of a border. - - "Take from the cellar of salt a proportion, - Take from the castors both pepper and oil, - With vinegar too, but a moderate portion,-- - Too much of acid your salad will spoil; - Mix them together, - You need not mind whether - You blend them exactly in apple-pie order, - But when you've stirred away, - Mix up the whole you may, - All but the eggs which are used as a border. - - "Take, take plenty of seasoning; - A teaspoonful of parsley that's chopped in small pieces - Though, though, the point will bear reasoning, - A small taste of onion the flavour increases - As the sauce curdle may, - Should it, the process stay. - Patiently do it again in good order; - For if you chance to spoil - Vinegar, eggs, and oil, - Still to proceed would on lunacy border." - -A Spanish salad, _gaspacho_, is a favourite food of the Andalusian -peasant. It is but bread soaked in oil and water, with a large Spanish -onion peeled, and a fresh cucumber. - - Slice three tomatoes, take out the grain and cut up the fruit. - Arrange carefully all these materials in a shallow earthen - pan, tier upon tier, salting and peppering each to taste, - pouring in oil plentifully, and vinegar. Last of all, let the - salad lie in some cool spot for an hour or two, then sprinkle - over it two handfuls of bread-crumbs. - -In Spanish peasant houses, the big wooden bowl hanging below the eaves -to keep it cool is always ready for attack. The oil in Spain is not to -our taste; but the salad made as above, with good oil, is delicious. -It should have a sprinkling of red pepper. - - - - -DESSERTS. - - There is not in the wide world so tempting a sweet - As that trifle where custard and macaroons meet. - Oh! the latest sweet tooth from my head must depart - Ere the taste of that trifle shall not win my heart. - - Yet it is not the sugar that's thrown in between, - Nor the peel of the lemon so candied and green, - 'T is not the rich cream that's whipped up by a mill, - Oh, no; it is something more exquisite still! - - -The great meaning of dessert is to offer "something more exquisite -still." And it is the province of the housekeeper, be she young or -old, to study how this can be done. - -Nothing in European dinners can compare with the American custards, -puddings, and pies. We are accused as a nation of having eaten too -many sweets, and of having ruined our teeth thereby; but who that has -languished in England over the insipid desserts at hotels, and the -tooth-sharpeners called "sweets," meaning tarts as sour as an east -wind, has not sighed for an American pie? In Paris the cakes are -pretty to look at, but oh, how they break their promise when you eat -them! Nothing but sweetened white of egg. One thing they surpass us -in,--_omelette souffle_; and a _gateau St. Honore_ is good, but with -that word of praise we dismiss the great French nation. - -Just look at our grand list of fruit desserts: apple charlotte, -apricots with rice, banana charlotte, banana fritters, blackberry -short-cake, strawberry short-cake, velvet cream with strawberries, -fresh pine-apples in jelly, frozen bananas, frozen peaches in cream, -orange cocoanut salad, orange salad, peach fritters, peach meringue, -peach short-cake, plum salad, salad of mixed fruits, sliced pears with -whipped cream, stewed pears, plain, and pumpkin pie! But oh! there is -"something more exquisite still," and that is an apple pie. - - "All new dishes fade, the newest oft the fleetest; - Of all the pies ever made, the apple's still the sweetest. - Cut and come again, the syrup upward springing, - While life and taste remain, to thee my heart is clinging. - Who a pie would make, first his apple slices, - Then he ought to take some cloves and the best of spices, - Grate some lemon rind, butter add discreetly, - Then some sugar mix, but mind,--the pie not made too sweetly. - If a cook of taste be competent to make it, - In the finest paste will enclose and bake it." - -During years of foreign travel I have never met a dish so perfect as -the American apple pie can be, with cream. - -Then look at our puddings; they are richer, sweeter, more varied than -any in the world, the English plum-pudding excepted. That is a -ponderous dainty, which few can eat. It looks well when dressed with -holly and lighted up, but it is not to be eaten every day. Baked bread -pudding, carrot pudding, exceedingly delicate, chocolate pudding, cold -cabinet-pudding, boiled rice-pudding with custard sauce, poor man's -rice-pudding, green-apple pudding, Indian pudding, minute pudding, -tapioca pudding, and all the custards boiled and baked with infinite -variety of flavour,--these are the every-day luxuries, and they are -very great ones, of the American table. - -One charming thing about dessert and American dishes is that ladies -can make them. They do not flush the face or derange the white apron. -They are pleasant things to dally with,--milk and eggs, and spice and -sugar. A model kitchen is every lady's delight. In these days of -tiles, and marble pastry-boards, and modern improvements, what pretty -things kitchens are. - -The model dairy, too, is a delight, with its upright milk-pans, in -which the cream is marked off by a neat little thermometer, and its -fire-brick floor. How cool and neat it is! Sometimes a stream of fresh -water flows under the floor, as the river runs under the Chateau of -Chenonceaux, where Diane de Poitiers dressed her golden hair. - -In the model kitchen is the exquisite range, with its polished -_batterie de cuisine_. Every brilliant saucepan seems to say, "Come -and cook in me;" every porcelain-lined pan urges upon one the -necessity of stewing nectarines in white sugar; every bright can -suggests the word "conserve," which always makes the mouth water; -every clatter of the skewers says, "Dainty dishes, come and make me." -All this is quite fascinating to an amateur. - -No pretty woman, if she did but know it, is ever so pretty as when she -is playing cook, and doing it well. The clean white apron, the short, -clean, cambric gown, the little cap, the white, bare arms,--the -glorified creams and jellies, pies and Charlotte Russe, cakes and -puddings, which fall from such fingers are ambrosial food. - -There is a great passion, in the properly regulated woman's heart, for -the cleanly part of the household work. The love of a dairy is, with -many a duchess, part of the business of her rank. In our country, -where ladies are compelled to put a hand, once perhaps too often, -owing to the insufficiency of servants, to the cooking, it is less a -pastime, but a knowledge of it is indispensable. To cook a heavy -dinner in hot weather, to wash the dishes afterward, this is sober -prose, and by a very dull author; but to make the dessert, this is -poetry. In the early morning the hostess should go into her neat dairy -to skim the cream; it will be much thicker if she does. She will -prepare all things for the desserts of the day. She will make her -well-flavoured custard and set it in the ice-chest. She will place her -compote of pears securely on a high shelf, away from that ubiquitous -cat who has, in most families, so remarkable and so irrepressible an -appetite. - -Then she should make a visit to the kitchen before dinner, to see to -it that the roast birds are garnished with water-cress, that the -vegetables are properly prepared, that the dishes are without a smear -on their lower surface. All this attention makes good servants and -very good dinners. - -In the matter of flavouring, the coloured race has us at a great -disadvantage. Any old coloured cook can distance her white "Missus" -there. This highly gifted race seem to have a sixth sense on the -subject of flavours. The rich tropical nature breaks out in -reminiscences of orange-blossoms, pineapple, guava, cocoanut, and -mandarin orange. Never can the descendants of the poor, half-starved, -frozen exiles of Plymouth Rock hope to achieve such custards and -puddings as these Ethiops pour out. It is as if some luxurious and -beneficent gift had left us when we were made poets, orators, -philosophers, preachers, and authors, when we were given what we -proudly term a higher intelligence. Who would not exchange all the -cold, mathematical, intellectual supremacy of which we boast for that -luscious gift of making pies and puddings _a ravir_? - -The making of pastry is so delicate and so varied a task that we can -only say, approach it with cold hands, cold ice-water, roll it on a -marble slab, then bake it in a very hot oven. - -Learn to stew well. Stew your fruit in a porcelain stewpan before -putting it in your tarts. It is one of the most wholesome forms of -cookery; a French novelist calls the stewpan the "favourite arm, the -talisman of the cook." A celebrated physician said that the action of -the stewpan was like that of the stomach, and it is a great gain if we -can help that along. Stewing gooseberries, cherries, and even apples -with sugar and lemon-peel before putting them in the tart, ensures a -good pie. - -Whipped white of egg is an elegant addition to most dessert dishes, -and every lady should provide herself with wire whisks. - -Whipped to a strong froth with sugar, and lemon or vanilla flavouring, -this garnish makes an ordinary into a superior pudding. New-laid eggs -are exceedingly difficult to beat up well. Take those which have been -laid several days. Have a deep bowl with a circular bottom, and in -beating the eggs keep the whisk as much as possible in an upright -position, moving it very rapidly; a little boiling water, a -tablespoonful to two eggs, and a teaspoonful of sifted sugar put to -them before beating is commenced, facilitates the operation. - -For _omelette souffle_ the white of eggs, beaten, should be firm -enough to cut. - -An orange-custard pudding is so very good that we must give a -time-honoured recipe:-- - - Boil a pint of new milk, pour it upon three eggs lightly - beaten, mix in the grated peel of an orange, and two ounces of - loaf sugar; beat all together for ten minutes, then pour the - custard into a pie dish, set it into another containing a - little water, and put it in a moderate oven. When the custard - is set, which generally takes about half an hour, take it out - and let it get cold. Then sprinkle over rather thickly some - very fine sugar, and brown with a salamander. This should be - eaten cold. - -Of rice and tapioca puddings the variety is endless, and they are most -healthful. A wife who will give her dyspeptic husband a good pudding -every day may perhaps save his life, his fortunes, and if he is an -author, his literary reputation. - -An antiquary of the last century wrote, "Cookery was ever reckoned a -branch of the art medical; the verb _curare_ signifies equally to -dress vegetables and to cure a distemper, and everybody has heard of -Dr. Diet, and kitchen physic." - -Indeed that most sacred part of a woman's duty, learning to cook for -the sick, can be studied through desserts. A lady, very ill in Paris -through a long winter, declared that she would have been cured had she -once tasted cream-toast, or tapioca pudding; both were luxuries which -she never encountered. - -Then come all the jellies; and it is better to make your own gelatine -from the real calves'-feet than to use patent gelatine. The latter, -however, is very good, and saves time. It also makes excellent -foundation for all the so-called creams. - -Some ardent housekeepers put up all their jams, preserves, and -currant jelly; some even make the cordials curacoa, noyau, peach -brandy, ginger cordial, and cherry brandy, but this is unnecessary. -They can be bought cheaper and better than they can be made. - -The history of liqueurs is a curious one. Does any one ever think, as -he tastes Chartreuse, of the gloomy monks who dig their own graves, -and never speak save to say, "Mes freres, il faut mourir," who alone -can make this sparkling and delicate liqueur which figures at every -grand feast? - -I have made an expedition to their splendid mountain-bound convent. It -is one of the most glorious drives in Europe, and rises into Alpine -grandeur and solemnity. There, amid winter's cold and summer's heat, -the Chartreuse lives in severe penance, making his hospitable liqueur -which enchants the world, out of the chamomile and other herbs which -grow around his convent. - -The best French liqueurs were made formerly at La Cote by the -Visetandine nuns. Kirschwasser is made from the cherries which grow in -the Alpine Tyrol, in one small province which produces nothing else. - -Liqueurs were invented for Louis XIV. in his old age. A cordial was -made by mixing brandy with sugar and scents. - -In making a mince pie, do not forget the excellent brandy, and the -dash of orange curacoa, which should be put in by the lady herself. -Else why is it that otherwise the mince pie seems to lack the -inspiriting and hidden fire. We read that there is "many a slip 'twixt -the cup and the lip." Perhaps the cook could tell, but one may be very -sure she will not. - -The modern, elegant devices by which strawberries, violets, and -roseleaves, orange blossoms, and indeed all berries can be candied -fresh in sugar, afford a pretty pastime for amateur cooks. But if near -a confectioner in the city these can be bought cheaper than they can -be made. It may amuse an invalid to make them, and the art is easily -learned. - -The cheese _fondu_ is a great favourite at foreign desserts. It is of -Swiss origin. It is a healthful, savoury, and appetizing dish, quickly -dressed and good to put at the end of a dinner for unexpected guests. - - Take as many eggs as there are guests, and then about a third - as much by weight of the best Gruyeres cheese, and the half of - that of butter. Break and beat up well the eggs in a saucepan, - then add the butter and the cheese, grated or cut in small - pieces; place the saucepan on the fire, and stir with a wooden - spoon till it is of a thick and soft consistence; put in salt - according to the age of the cheese,--fresh cheese requires the - most,--and a strong dose of pepper, then bake it like macaroni - and send to table hot. - -One pie we have which is national; it is that made of the pumpkin, and -it is notoriously good. Also we may claim the squash pie and the -sweet-potato pie, both of which merit the highest encomiums. - -Our fruits are so plentiful and so good that few housekeepers can fail -of having a good dessert of fruits alone. But do not force the -seasons. Take them as they come. When fruits are cheapest then they -are best. Our peaches have more flavour than those of Europe, and our -grapes are unrivalled. Of plums and pears, France has better than we -can boast, but our strawberries are as good and as plentiful as in -England. - -In fact, all the wild berries which are now getting to be cultivated -berries, like blackberries, blueberries, huckleberries, and -raspberries, are better than similar fruits abroad. The wild -strawberry of the Alps is, however, delicious in flavour and -sweetness. - -A very grand dessert is furnished with ices of every flavour, jellies -holding fruit and flavoured with maraschino, all sorts of bonbons, -nuts in sugar, candied grapes and oranges, fresh fruits in season, and -ending with liqueurs and black coffee. - -A simple pudding, or pie followed by grapes and peaches, with the cup -of black coffee afterward, is the national dessert of our United -States. In winter it may be enriched by a Newtown pippin or a King of -Tompkins County apple, some boiled chestnuts and a few other nuts, -some Florida oranges, or those delicious little mandarins, perhaps -raised by the immortal Rip Van Winkle, our own Joe Jefferson, on his -Louisiana estate. He seems to have infused them with the flavour of -his own rare and cheerful genius. He has raised a laugh before this, -as well as the best mandarin oranges. Some dyspeptics declare that to -chew seven roasted almonds after dinner does them good. And the -roasted almonds fitly close the chapter on desserts. - - - - -GERMAN EATING AND DRINKING. - - "I wonder if Charlemagne ever drank - A tankard of Assmanschausen. Nay! - If he had, his empire never would rank - As it does with the royalist realms to-day; - For the goddess that laughs within the cup - Had wiled and won him from blood and war, - And shown, as he drained her long draughts up, - There was something better worth living for - Than kingcraft keeping his gruff brow sad. - I wish from my very soul she had." - - -The deep, dark, swiftly flowing Rhine, its legends, its forests of -silver firs and pines, its mountains crowned with castles, and its -hillsides blushing with the bending vine, the convent's ancient walls, -the glistening spire, the maidens with their plaited hair, and "hands -that offer early flowers," all the bright, beautiful, romantic -landscape, the dancing waves which wash its historic shores, its -donjon keeps and haunted Tenter Rock, its - - "Beetling walls with ivy grown, - Frowning heights of mossy stone,"-- - -all this beauty is placed in the land of the sauer-kraut, the herring -salad, the sweet stewed fruit with pork, pig and prune sauce, carp -stewed in beer, raw goose-flesh or Goettingen sausages, potato -sweetened, and cabbage soured,--in a land, in short, whose kitchen is -an abomination to all other nations. - -Not that one does not get an excellent dinner at a German hotel in a -great city. But all the cooks are French. The powerful young emperor -has, however, given his orders that all _menus_ shall hereafter be -written in German; the language of Ude, Soyer, Valet, and Francatelli, -Brillat, Savarin, and Bechamel, is to be replaced by German. - -But if the viands are not good, the wines are highly praised by the -_gourmet_; and as these wines are often exported, it is said that one -gets a better German wine in New York than at a second-class hotel at -Bonn or Cologne or Duesseldorf,--on the same principle that fish at -Newport is less fresh than at New York, for it is all bought, sent to -New York, and then sent back to Newport. In other words, the exporters -are careful to keep up the reputation of their exported wines. - -Assmanschausen is a red Rhine wine of high degree; some _gourmets_ -call it the Burgundy of the Rhine. This poetic beverage is found -within the gorge of the Rhine. - -The bend which the noble river assumes at the Rheingau is said to have -the effect of concentrating the sun's rays, reflected from the surface -of the water as from a mirror, upon the vine-clad slopes; and it is to -this circumstance, combined with the favourable nature of the soil, -and to the vineyards being completely sheltered from the north winds -by the Taunus range, that the marked superiority of the wines of the -Rheingau is ordinarily attributed. - - "Bacharach has produced another fine wine. - 'He never has been to Heaven and back - Who has not drunken of Bacharach.'" - -And Longfellow says:-- - - "At Frankfort on the Maine, - And at Wuertzburg on the Stein, - At Bacharach on the Rhine, - Grow the three best kinds of wine." - -We know but little of the superior red wines of Walporzheimer, -Ahrweiler, and Bodendorfer, which come from the valley of the Ahr. The -Ahr falls into the Rhine near Sinzig, midway between Coblenz and Bonn. -The wines from its beautiful vineyards are a fine deep red. The taste -is astringent, somewhat like port. There is an agreeable red wine -called Kreutzburger which comes from the neighbourhood of -Ehrenbreitstein. Linz on the Rhine sends us a good red wine known as -Dattenberger. These are all pure wines which know no doctoring. - -The Liebfrauenmilch is a Riesling wine with a fine bouquet. It owes -its celebrity rather to its name than its merits. It comes from the -vineyards adjoining the Liebfrauen Kirche near Worms, and was named by -some pious churchman. - -No wines have as many poetical tributes as the Rhine wines. One of the -English poets sings:-- - - "O for a kingdom rocky-throned, - Above the brimming Rhine, - With vassals who should pay their toll - In many sorts of wine. - Above me naught but the blue air, - And all below, the vine, - I'd plant my throne, where legends say - In nights of harvest-time - King Charlemagne, in golden robe,-- - So runs the rustic rhyme,-- - Doth come to bless the mellowing crops - While bells of Heaven chime." - -The Steinbergers, the Hochheimers, Marcobrunners, and Ruedesheimers, -sound like so many noble families. Indeed an American senator, hearing -these fine names, remarked: "I have no doubt, sir, they are all very -nice girls." - -There is a famous Hochheimer, no less than a hundred and sixty-seven -years old, the vintage of that year when the Duke of Marlborough -gained the Battle of Ramillies. Let us hope that he and Prince Eugene -moistened their clay and labours with some of this famous wine. These -wines do not last, however. The best age is ten years, and those which -have been stored in the antique vaulted cellar of the Bernardine Abbey -of Eberbach, world-renowned as the Grand-ducal Cabinet wine of the -ruler of Nassau, are now completely run out. Even Rudesheimer of 1872 -is no longer good. - -It must be remembered, however, that these wines are never fortified. -To put extraneous alcohol into their beloved Rhine wine would rouse -Rudolph of Hapsburg and Conrad of Hotstettin from the sleep of -centuries. - -The Steinberger Cabinet of 1862 is the most superb. Of Rhine wines for -bouquet, refined flavour, combined richness and delicacy. We do not -except Schloss Johannisberger, because that is not in the market. A -Marcobrunner and a Ruedesheimer are not to be despised. - -Prince Metternich sent to Jules Janin for his autograph, and the witty -poet editor sent a receipt for twelve bottles of Imperial Schloss -Johannisberger. The Prince took the hint and had a dozen of the very -best cabinet wine forwarded, every bottle being sealed and every cork -duly branded with the Prince's crest! The Johannisberger wine is -excessively sweet, singularly soft, and gives forth a delicious -perfume, a rich, limpid, amber-coloured wine, with a faint bitter -flavour; it is as beautiful to look at as it is luscious to the taste, -and it possesses a bouquet which the Empress Eugenie compared to that -of heliotrope, violets, and geranium leaves combined. - -The refined pungent flavour of a good Hock, its slight racy -sharpness, with an after almond flavour, make it an admirable -appetizer. The staircase vineyards, in which the grapes grow on the -Rhine, seem to catch all the revivifying influences of sunshine. Their -splendid golden colour is caught from those first beams of the sun as -he greets his bride, the Earth, after he has been separated from her -for twelve dark hours. - -Some very good wine comes from the Rochusberg, immediately opposite -Ruedesheim. Goethe heard a sermon here once in which the preacher -glorified God in proportion to the number of bottles of good wine it -was daily vouchsafed to him to stow away under his waistband. - -It was here that the rascal lived who drank wine out of a boot, -immortalized by Longfellow. We can hardly, however, abuse the man, for -he had an incurable thirst, and no crystal goblet would have held -enough for him,--not indeed the biggest German beer mug. - -Longfellow, in the "Golden Legend," has a chapter devoted to wine. In -this poem the old cellarer muses, as he goes to draw the fine wine for -the fathers, who sit above the salt, and he utters this truth of those -brothers who sit below the salt:-- - - "Who cannot tell bad wine from good, - And are much better off than if they could." - -The superior wines of the Rhine, Walporzheimer, Ahrweiler and -Bodendorfer, all deserve notice. - -The kind of wine to be served with a dinner must depend on the means -of the host. It is to be feared that, ignorantly or otherwise, many -wines with high-sounding names which are not good are offered to -guests. - -Mr. Evarts made a witty remark on this subject. Some one said to him, -"I hear that as a great diner-out you find yourself the worse for -drinking so many different sorts of wine." "Oh no," said Mr. Evarts, -"I do not object to the different wines, it is the indifferent wines -which hurt me!" - -Savarin says, sententiously, "Nothing can exceed the treachery of -asking people to dinner under the guise of friendship, and then giving -them to eat or drink of that which may be injurious to health." We -should think so. That was the pleasant hospitality of the Borgias. In -the neighbourhood of Neuwied, the dealers are accused of much -doctoring of wine. During the vintage, at night, when the moon has -gone down, boats glide over the Rhine freighted with a soapy substance -manufactured from potatoes, and called by its owners sugar. This stuff -is thrown into the vats containing the must, water is introduced from -pumps and wells, chemical ferments and artificial heat are applied. -This noble fluid is sent everywhere by land and water, and labelled as -first-class wine. It is not bad to the taste, but does not bear -transportation. This adulteration chiefly affects the wines sold at -German hotels. - -Heinrich Heine has left us this picture of a German dinner: "I dined -at the Crown at Clausthal. My repast consisted of spring greens, -parsley soup, violet blue cabbage, a pile of roast veal, which -resembled Chimborazo in miniature, and a sort of smoked herring called -buckings, from their inventor William Buckings, who died in 1447, and -who on account of that invention was so greatly honoured by Charles V. -that the great monarch in 1556 made a journey from Middelburg to -Bierlied, in Zealand, for the express purpose of visiting the grave of -the great fish-dryer. How exquisitely such dishes taste when we are -familiar with their historical associations." - -It is impossible in translation to give Heine's intense ridicule and -scorn. He was a Frenchman out of place in Germany. He revolted at -things German, but endeared himself to his people by his wit, -universality of talent, and sincerity. The world has thanked him for -his "Reisebilder." Heine gives us new ideas of the horrors of German -cookery when he talks of Goettingen sausages, Hamburg smoked beef, -Pomeranian goose-breasts, ox-tongues, calf's brains in pastry, gudgeon -cakes, and "a wretched pig's-head in a wretcheder sauce, which has -neither a Grecian nor a Persian flavour, but which tasted like tea and -soft soap." - -He cannot leave Goettingen without this description: "The town of -Goettingen, celebrated for its sausages and its university, belongs to -the King of Hanover, and contains nine hundred and ninety-nine -dwellings, divers chambers, an observatory, a prison, a library, and a -council chamber where the beer is excellent." - -German sausages are very good. Even the great Goethe, in dying, -remembered to send a sausage to his aesthetic love of a lifetime, the -Frau Von Stein. - -Thackeray, who was keenly alive to the horrors of German cookery, says -that whatever is not sour is greasy, and whatever is not greasy is -sour. The curious bill of fare of a middle-class German table is -something like this: They begin with a pudding. They serve sweet -preserved fruit with the meat, generally stewed cherries. They go on -with dreadful dishes of cabbage and preparations of milk, curdled, -soured, and cheesed. - -Dr. Lieber, the learned philologist, was eloquent on the subject of -the coarseness of the German appetite. He had early corrected his by a -visit to Italy, and he remarked, with his usual profundity, that it -was "the more incomprehensible as nature had given Germany the finest -wines with which to wash down the worst cookery." - -A favourite dish is potato pancakes. The raw potatoes are scraped -fine, mixed with milk, and then treated like flour cakes, served with -apple or plum sauce. - -Sauer-kraut is ridiculed, but it is only cabbage cut fine and pickled. -There are two delicious dishes in which it plays an important part: -one is roast pheasant cut fine and cooked with sauer-kraut and -champagne; the other is sauer-kraut cooked in the _croute_ of a -Strasbourg _pate de foie gras_. - -Favourite Austro-Hungarian dishes are _bachhendl_, baked -spring-chicken,--the chicken rolled into a paste of egg flour and then -baked. It is rather dry to eat, but just the thing with a bottle of -Hungarian wine. Also a beefsteak with plenty of _paprika_, or -Hungarian red pepper, Brinsa cheese, pot cheese, made in the -Carpathian mountains and baked in a hot oven. - -Brook trout is never fried, but boiled in water, and then served -surrounded by parsley in melted butter. - -In eastern Russia grows a pea, the gray pea, which is boiled and eaten -like peanuts by peeling off the hard skin, or boiled with some sort of -sour-sweet sauce, which softens the skin. This pea is such a favourite -with the Lithuanians that it is made the subject of poetry. - -Venison, and hare soup, are deliciously gamey bouillons, which are -made of the soup bone of the roast. The Polish soup _barscz_ is made -of bouillon with the juice of red beets, little _saucissons_, and -specially made pastry, with highly spiced forced-meat balls swimming -in it. - -Lettuce salad is prepared in Germany with sour cream. - -A favourite drink is warm beer,--beer heated with the yolk of an egg -in it. - - "Fill me once more the foaming pewter up! - Another board of oysters, ladye mine! - To-night Lucullus with himself shall sup. - Those mute inglorious Miltons are divine; - And as I here in slippered ease recline, - Quaffing of Perkins's Entire my fill, - I sigh not for the lymph of Aganippe's rill." - -Beer is the amber inspiration of the Germans, and plays its daily, -hourly part in their science of entertaining. - -And the pea which can be skinned, which is such a favourite with the -Lithuanians, has also been immortalized by Thackeray:-- - - "I give thee all! I can no more, - Though poor the offering be; - Stewed duck and peas are all the store - That I can offer thee!-- - A duck whose tender breast reveals - Its early youth full well, - And better still, a pea that peels - From fresh transparent shell." - -But it must not be supposed that rich German citizens of the United -States do not know how to give a good dinner. Cosmopolitan in -everything else, these, the best colonists whom Europe has sent to us, -make good soldiers, good statesmen, and good entertainers. They do not -insist that we shall eat pig and prune sauce. No, they give us the -most affluent bill of fare which the market affords. They give us a -fine dining-room in which to eat it, and they offer as no other men -can "a tankard of Assmanschausen." - -They give us, as a nation, a valuable present in mineral water. The -Apollinaris bubbling up near the Rhine seems sent by Heaven to avert -that gout and rheumatism which are the terrible after-dinner penalties -of those who like too well the noble Rhine wines. - - - - -THE INFLUENCE OF GOOD CHEER ON AUTHORS AND GENIUSES. - - "The ancient poets and their learned rhymes - We still admire in these our later times, - And celebrate their fames. Thus, though they die - Their names can never taste mortality. - These had their helps. They wrote of gods and kings, - Of temples, battles, and such gallant things. - And now we ask what noble meat and drink - Can help to make man work, to make him think." - - "Pray, on what meat hath this our Caesar fed?" - - -We should have a higher estimate of the value of a knowledge of -cookery and of all the arts of entertaining, did we sufficiently -realize that the style of Carlyle was owing to dyspepsia! At the age -of fifteen he entered Edinburgh University in order to fit himself for -the pulpit. He studied for many months to that end, but his vocation -refused to be clear. The ministry grew alien to his mind. Finally he -shut himself up, and as he himself says, wrestled with the Lord and -all the imps of darkness. Carlyle believed in a personal Devil, not -tasting food or sleeping for three days and nights, and then -terminated the struggle by resolving to pursue literature. What mental -revolution he underwent, he says he never could understand; all that -he knew was that he came out with that "dommed dyspepsia,"--his Scotch -way of pronouncing a stronger word. - -Some writer says that this anecdote solves the problem of Carlyle. The -force, earnestness, and eloquence of his writings were born of a fine, -free intellect. Then came despondency, rage, and bitterness, springing -from dyspepsia, which had been his haunting demon from the first, -releasing him at intervals only to assail and torture him the "more -for each surcease." - -Most of his works come under the head of the Literature of Dyspepsia, -and can be as plainly traced to it as to the growth of his -understanding or the sincerity of his convictions. Who does not -recognize, in the oddities of the trials and spiritual agonies of Herr -Teufelsdroeckh, the author himself under a thin disguise, and the -promotings and promptings, and phenomena of censuring indigestion? All -through the "Sartor Resartus" it is evident that the gastric juices of -the illustrious iconoclast are insufficient; that while he is railing -at humanity he is suffering from gastritis, while he is prophesying -that the race will come to naught but selfishness and stupidity he is -undergoing gastrodynia, or, as it is commonly called, stomachic cramp. - -I do not know who wrote that masterly criticism, but evidently some -man who had had a good dinner. - -But Carlyle gets better and writes his noble essay on Robert Burns, -the life of John Sterling, Oliver Cromwell's letters and speeches. -Then he is at his best; sees man as a brother, handicapped with -circumstances, riveted to temperament perhaps, but in spite of all -shortcomings and neglected opportunities, still a brother, demanding -respect, deserving of help. How different Carlyle would have been, as -a man and as a writer, with nutritive organs capable of continually -and regularly performing their functions. Dyspepsia was his worst -enemy, as it has been that of many of his readers. Every mouthful he -ate must have been a gastric Nemesis for sins of opinion, and of -heresies against humanity. His very style is the result of -indigestion,--an excess of ill-chosen, ill-prepared German fare in a -British stomach, affording a strange sustenance, which, like some -diseases, keep a man alive, but which pain while they sustain. - -What a different genius was Prescott, who had a good dinner every day -of his life, who was brought up from boyhood in a luxurious old Boston -household where was the perfection of cookery! - -Sydney Smith sent word to Prescott after he wrote "Ferdinand and -Isabella,"-- - -"Tell Prescott to come here and we will drown him in turtle soup." - -"Say that I can swim in those seas," was Prescott's witty rejoinder. - -Mr. Prescott was fifty-three years of age when he visited England; he -was extremely handsome, courteous, and very much a man of the world. - - "We grow like what we eat. Bad food depresses, - Good food exalts us like an inspiration." - -Mr. Prescott had been inspired by good food, as any one can see who -reads that noble work "Ferdinand and Isabella." In England this -accomplished man was received by Lady Lyell, to whom he was much -attached. The account of English hospitality which he gives throws a -rosy light on the history of the art of entertaining: - -"I returned last night from the Horners, Lady Lyell's parents and -sisters, a very accomplished and happy family circle. They have a -small house, with a pretty lawn stretching between it and the Thames, -that forms a silver edging to the close-shaven green. The family -gather under the old trees on the little shady carpet, which is sweet -with the perfume of flowery shrubs. And you see sails gliding by and -stately swans, of which there are hundreds on the river. The next -Sunday, after dinner, which we took at four o'clock, we strolled -through Hampton Court and its royal park. The next day we took our -picnic at Box Hill. On Friday to dinner at Sir Robert Peel's and to an -evening party at Lady S----'s. I went at eleven and found myself in a -brilliant saloon filled with people amongst whom I did not recognize a -familiar face. You may go to ten parties in London, be introduced to a -score of persons in each, and on going to the eleventh not see a face -that you have ever seen before, so large is the society of the great -metropolis. I was soon put at my ease, however, by the cordial -reception of Lord and Lady C----, who introduced me to a great number -of persons." - -This alone would prove how great was Prescott's popularity, for in -London, people, as a rule, are not introduced. - -"In the crowd I saw an old gentleman, nicely made up, stooping a good -deal, covered with orders, and making his way easily along, as all, -young and old, seemed to treat him with deference. It was the Duke of -Wellington, the old Iron Duke. He likes the attention he receives in -this social way. He wore round his neck the order of the Golden -Fleece, on his coat the order of the Garter. He is, in truth, the lion -of England, not to say of all Europe." - -This beautiful little _genre_ picture of the Iron Duke was written in -the year 1850. Forty years later General Grant was received at Apsley -House by the son of the great Duke of Wellington, the second Duke, -who opened the famous Waterloo room and toasted the modest American as -the greatest soldier of modern times. Mr. Prescott goes on to say,-- - -"We had a superb dinner at Sir Robert Peel's, four and twenty guests. -It was served in the long picture-gallery. The windows of the gallery -look out upon the Thames, its beautiful stone bridges with lofty -arches, Westminster Abbey with its towers, and the living panorama on -the water. The opposite windows look on the green gardens behind the -Palace of Whitehall, which were laid out by Cardinal Wolsey, and near -the spot where Charles I. lived, and lost his life on the scaffold. -The gallery is full of masterpieces, especially Dutch and Flemish, -amongst them the famous _Chapeau de Paille_, which cost Sir Robert -over five thousand pounds. In his dining-room were also superb -pictures, the famous one by Wilkie, of John Knox preaching, which did -not come up to the idea I had formed of it from the engraving. There -was a portrait of Dr. Johnson by Reynolds, the portrait owned by Mrs. -Thrale and engraved for the Dictionary; what a bijou! - -"We sat at dinner looking out on the moving Thames. We dined at eight, -but the twilight lingers here until half-past nine at this summer -season. Sir Robert was exceedingly courteous to his guests, told some -good stories, showed us his autographs, amongst which was the -celebrated one written by Nelson, in which he says, 'If I die -"Frigate" will be found written on my heart.'" - -Mr. Prescott's letter to his daughter points out the strange -difference between the life of a girl in England and a girl here. - -"I think on reflection, dear Lizzy, that you did well not to come -with me. Girls of your age [she was then nineteen] make no great -figure in society. One never, or very rarely, meets them at dinner -parties, and they are not so numerous at evening parties as with us, -unless it be at balls. Six out of seven women you meet are over -thirty, and many of them over forty or fifty, not to say sixty; the -older they are, the more they are dressed and diamonded. Young girls -dress less, and wear very little ornament indeed." - -What a commentary this is on our American way of doing things,--where -young girls rule society, put their mothers in the background, and -wear too fine clothes. - -Dr. Prescott was of course presented at Court, and his account of it -is delightful:-- - -"Well! the presentation has come off, and I will give you some account -of it before going to dine with Lord Fitzwilliam. This morning I -breakfasted with Mr. Monckton Milnes, where I met Macaulay the third -time this week. We had also Lord Lyttleton, an excellent scholar, -Gladstone, and Lord W. Germains, a sensible and agreeable person, and -two or three others. We had a lively talk, but I left early for the -Court affair. I was at Mr. Abbott Lawrence's at one in my costume,--a -_chapeau_ with gold lace, blue coat, and white trowsers, begilded with -buttons and metal, a sword, and patent-leather-boots. I was a figure -indeed! but I had enough to keep me in countenance. I spent an hour -yesterday with Lady M. getting instructions for demeaning myself. The -greatest danger was that I should be tripped up by my sword. On -reaching St. James Place we passed upstairs through files of the -Guard, beefeaters, and were shown into a large saloon richly hung with -crimson silk, and with some fine portraits of the family of George -III. It was amusing, as we waited there an hour, to see the arrival of -the different persons, diplomatic, military, and courtiers, all men -and women blazing in their stock of princely finery, and such a power -of diamonds, pearls, emeralds, and laces, the trains of the ladies' -dresses several yards in length. Some of the ladies wore coronets of -diamonds, which covered the greater part of the head. I counted on -Lady D----'s head two strings of diamonds rising gradually from the -size of a fourpence to the size of an English shilling, and thick in -proportion. The dress of the Duchess of D---- was studded with -diamonds as large as nutmegs. The young ladies dressed very plainly. I -tell this for Lizzy's especial benefit. The company were permitted to -pass one by one into the presence-chamber, a room of about the same -size as the other, with gorgeous canopy and throne, at the farther end -of which stood the little Queen and her Consort, surrounded by her -Court. She was rather simply dressed, but he was in Field-Marshal's -uniform, and covered, I should think, with all the orders of Europe. -He is a good-looking person, but by no means so good-looking as you -are given to expect from his pictures. The Queen is better looking -than you might expect. I was presented by our minister, by the order -of the Chamberlain, as the historian of Ferdinand and Isabella and -made my profound obeisance to her Majesty who made a dignified -courtesy. I made the same low bow to his Princeship, and then bowed -myself out of the circle without my sword tripping up my heels. As I -was drawing off, Lord Carlisle, who was standing on the outer edge, -called me to him and kept me by his side telling me the names of the -different lords and ladies who, after paying their obeisance to the -Queen, passed out before us." - -Mr. Monckton Milnes became Lord Houghton, and I had great pleasure in -knowing him well many years after this. He told me, what our American -historian was too modest to tell, how well Mr. Prescott appeared in -London. Lionized to death, as the English alone can lionize, Mr. -Prescott never lost his modest self-possession. He was everywhere -remarked for his beauty, his fine manner, and his knowledge of the -usages of good society. But then, in 1887 the English went equally -wild, even more so, over Buffalo Bill, and probably preferred him. - -Mr. Prescott was entertained at Cuddeston Palace, the residence of -Bishop Wilberforce, the famous "Soapy Sam," from the fact, as he said -himself, that he "was always in hot water, and always came out cleaner -than he went in." This witty and accomplished prelate was very much -pleased with our American scholar, and gave him a hearty welcome. It -will sound curiously enough now, that Mr. Prescott found his Episcopal -views very high, and says, "The service was performed with a ceremony -quite Roman Catholic." The Bishop of Oxford would, were he living now, -be called low church,--so much do terms vary in different ages. Truly -the world moves! - -I was in my youth entertained at the house of Mr. Prescott, at Nahant, -and allowed to see his workroom and the machinery with which he wrote. -He gave me, and I have it still, a paper which he wrote for me with -the wired plate which the blind use, for he could scarcely see at all. - -He was master of the art of entertaining. How charming he was at -dinner at his own house; how pleasantly he made one forget his -greatness, except that a supreme simplicity seems always to accompany -true greatness. He had a regularity in his habits which would in a -less amiable man have interfered with his agreeability, but with him -it was most fascinating, as it seemed like musical chords set to noble -words. - -It would be pleasant to record the triumphs of Mr Webster, Mr. Motley, -Mr. Lowell, Mr. Phelps, Mr. Evarts, Mr. Depew, and many another great -American in England, but that, while a subject for national pride, -scarcely comes within the scope of this little book. - -It would seem, however, that our orators, however fed, have compassed -the accomplishment of after-dinner speaking, which is so much -appreciated in England, and it is to be hoped that no "dommed -dyspepsia" from badly cooked food will dim the oratory of the future. - -It is quite true that a witty and full talker will be silenced if he -is placed before a bad dinner, one which is palpably pretentious but -not well cooked, and villanously served. It is impossible for the -really conscientious diner-out, who respects his digestion, whose -religion is his dinner, to talk much or laugh much, if his gormandize -is wounded. Even if he wills to talk, in order not to lose his -reputation, his speech will be a "muddy flood of saponaceous blather," -instead of his usual brilliant flow of anecdote and repartee. - -Not all great men have, however, felt the influence of food as an -inspirer. Dr. Johnson was great although he was a horrible feeder; and -at the other extreme was General Grant, so abstemious that he once -told me that he did not know the sensation of hunger; that he could go -three days without food. At the splendid banquets given to him he -rarely ate much, but noticed the people and the surroundings, great -hero that he was. - -Thackeray, Disraeli, and Dickens have given us the most appreciative -descriptions of the art of entertaining, and were men deeply sensible -of the charms of a good dinner. - -Charles Lamb has been the poet of the homely and the comfortable side -of good eating; he records for us in immortal prose and poetry what -roast pig and tobacco have done for him. - -We claim boldly that a part of Webster's greatness, Prescott's charm, -the genius of Motley and of Lowell, the oratory of Depew, the wit of -Parke Godwin and Horace Porter, even the magnificent march of Sherman -to the sea, the great genius of Bryant, the sparkling cup of Anacreon, -O. W. Holmes, the masterly speech of our lawyers, and the unrivalled -eloquence of our pulpit orators, are owing to that earlier style of -domestic American cookery which was, and is, and always shall be, -deserving of the highest praise,--when meats were cooked with all -their juices, before a wood fire, when bread was light and feathery, -when soups were soups, and broils were broils! Oh, vanished -excellence! - - - - -BONBONS. - - Do, child, go to it' grandam, child; - Give grandam kingdom! and it' grandam will - Give it plumb, a cherry, and a fig. - KING JOHN. - - -They used to call a sugar-plum a plumb in Shakspeare's time. Was it on -account of its weight? Few ladies, on receiving a box of bonbons from -Maillards, go into the great question of their antiquity and their -manufacture. Few, even now, who at a fashionable hotel, receive on -Sundays after dinner a pretty little paper box filled with candied -rose-leaves and violets, remember that they are only following the -fashion of Lucretia Borgia in putting them in their pocket to eat in -their rooms, or at the theatre. There is nothing new under the sun. - -In France, in entertaining a lady, or a party of ladies, at theatre or -opera, the gentleman host always carries a box of bonbons, within -which is a little imitation-silver sugar-tongs by which she can help -herself to a chocolate or a _marron deguise_, without soiling her -fingers. This pampered dame does not consider that France makes -annually sixty million of francs' worth of bonbons; that it exports -only about one fourth of this, leaving an enormous amount for home -consumption. - -They send over to England alone, cheap sweets manufactured by steam, -to the amount of three hundred thousand English pounds a year. - -The sugar-plum came from Italy, and dates no further back than the -sixteenth century as an article of commerce. But the skilful -confectioners in private houses knew how to manufacture not only those -which were healthful, but those which were very useful in getting rid -of dreaded rivals, unfaithful lovers, and troublesome friends. - -The manufacture of the antique sugar-plum, the antediluvian baked -almond, and the nauseous coloured abominations whose paint-poisoned -surface has long been discarded in France, received, as I read in an -old chronicle, its death-blow from the Aboukir almonds, during the -period of Napoleon's invasion of Egypt, which killed more people than -the bullets. Next went down the cracker bonbons, called Cossacks, on -account of the terror with which they inspired the _grandes dames_ on -their first advent in 1814. - -These latter, however, have come back, in the harmless detonating -powder-charged bonbons which every one hears at a dinner-party, as the -fringed papers are pulled. Then come the _primaveras_, a variety of -sugared bomb. Then the _marquises_, _orangines_, _marron glace_, or -sugared chestnut, _cerises pralinee_, burnt cherries, _bowles_, -_ananas_, _dattes au cafe_, dates delightfully stuffed and covered -with sugar, _diables noirs_, _ganaches_, and an ephemeral but -delicious candy, _bonbons fondants_, with an inscription on the box -that "these must be eaten within twenty-four hours." They are -sometimes fruits with a creamy sugar, raspberries, currants, -strawberries, and are delicious, but quite untransportable, although -transporting merchandise. Their invention made the fortune of the -inventor. - -Formerly the preparation of bonbons was a tedious affair. Now it is -almost the work of a day, but they are perishable. If you leave a box -open they will devour themselves. Kept cool and air-tight, they will -last for years. About the first of December the great manufacturers in -the Rue de la Paix, commence their operations for New Year's, when -everybody, from President Carnot down, sends his friend a box of -bonbons. They tell of one confectioner who abandoned his sugar-pots to -turn playwright, about the time that Alphonse Karr forsook literature -to sell bouquets. The principle remains the same. He wished to sweeten -the existence of _les Parisiennes_. - -In visiting one of these immense establishments one descends a stone -staircase, and finds one's self in a stifling atmosphere, heavily -laden with the aroma of vanilla and other essences. Around are scores -of workmen, in white-paper caps and aprons, their faces red with heat, -as they plunge particular fruits into large cauldrons, filled with -boiling syrups. More in the shade are other stalwart men, their faces -pale with the heated atmosphere, piling up almonds on huge copper -vessels; and so constant is the sound of metal clashing against metal -that the visitor might imagine himself in an armour smithy, instead of -a sugar factory; rather with Vulcan working for the gods, or some -village blacksmith pounding out horseshoes, than with a party of -French _ouvriers_ making sugar-plums for children to crunch. On all -sides one sees sugar, gallons of liqueurs, syrups, and essences, rum, -aniseed, noyau, maraschino, pineapple, apricot, strawberry, cherry, -vanilla, chocolate, coffee, and tea, with sacks of almonds, and -baskets of chestnuts, pistachio nuts, and filberts being emptied into -machines which bruise their husks, flay them, and blanch them, all -ready to receive their saccharine coating. - -Those bonbons which have liqueur in them are much appreciated by -gourmets who find other bonbons disagree with them! A sugar-coated -brandy cherry is relished by the wisest man. Most bonbons are made by -hand; those only which are flat at the bottom are cast in moulds. In -the hand-made bonbons, the sugar paste is rolled into shapes by the -aid of an instrument formed of a stout piece of wire, one end of which -is twisted, and the other fixed into a wooden handle. With this the -paste is taken out of the cauldron, and worked into the desired form -by a rapid _coup de main_. For bonbons of a particular form, such as -those in imitation of various fruits, models are carved in wood. - -Liqueur bonbons are formed of a mixture of some given liqueur and -liquid sugar, which is poured into moulds, and then placed in a slow -oven for the day. Long before they are removed a hard crust has formed -on the outside, while the inside remains in its original liquid state. -Bonbons are crystallized by being plunged into a syrup heated to -thirty degrees Reamur; by the time they are dry the crystallization is -complete and acts as a protection against the atmosphere. The bonbons -can then be kept a certain time, although their flavour deteriorates. - -I think sugar one of the most remarkable of all the gifts of nature. -It submits itself to all sorts of plastic arts, and to see a -confectioner pouring it through little funnels, to see him make a -flower, even to its stamens, of this excellent juice of the cane or of -the beet,--they use beet sugar almost entirely in France,--is to -comprehend anew how many of the greatest of all curiosities are hidden -in the kitchen. - -One must go to Chambery, in Savoy, to taste some of the most -exquisite _patisserie_, to find the most delicious candied fruits; and -at Montpellier, in the south of France, is another most celebrated -manufactory of bonbons. - -I received once from Montpellier a box holding six pounds of these -marvellous sweets, which were arranged in layers. Beginning with -chocolates in every form, they passed upward by strata, until they -reached the candied fruit, which was to be eaten at once. I think -there were fifty-five varieties of delicious sweets in that box. Such -lovely colours, such ineffable flavours, such beauties as they were! -The only remarkable part of this anecdote is that I survived to tell -it. I can only account for it by the fact that it was sent me by a -famous physician, who must have hidden his power of healing in the -box. Unlike Pandora's box which sent the troop of evils out into the -world, this famous _cachet_ sent nothing but good-will and pleasure, -barring perhaps a possible danger. - -If, however, we speak of the bonbons themselves, what can we say of -the _bonbonnieres_! Everything that is beautiful, everything that is -curious, everything that is quaint, everything that is ludicrous, -everything that is timely, is utilized. I received an immense green -satin grasshopper--the last _jour de l'an_, in Paris--filled to his -uttermost _antennae_ with bonbons. It could be for once said that the -"grasshopper had not become a burden." The _panier Watteau_, formed of -satin, pearls, straw, and flowers, may be made to conceal a -handkerchief worth a thousand francs under the rose-satin lining. The -boxes are painted by artists, and remain a lovely belonging for a -toilet table. - -Beautiful metal reproductions of some antique _chef d'oeuvre_ are -made into _bonbonnieres_. Some bonbon-boxes have themselves concealed -in huge bouquets of violets, fringed with lace, or hidden under roses, -which are skilfully growing out of white satin; beautiful reticules, -all embroidered, hold the carefully bound up packages, where tinfoil -preserves the silk and satin from contact with the sugar. If France -did nothing else but make _bonbonnieres_, she would prove her claim to -being the most ingenious purveyor for the luxury of entertaining in -all the world. If luxury means, "to freight the passing hour with -flying happiness," France does her "possible" as she would say -herself, to help along this fairy packing. - -At Easter, when sweetmeats are almost as much in request as at the New -Year,--the French make very little of Christmas,--these bonbon -establishments are filled with Easter eggs of the gayest colours. -There are nests of eggs, baskets of eggs, cradles full of eggs, and -pretty peasants carrying eggs to market; nests of eggs, with birds of -brilliant plumage sitting on the nests or hovering over them, while -their freight of bonbons repose on softest swan's-down, lace, and -satin; or again, the egg itself of satin, with its yolk of orange -creams and its white of marshmallow paste. There is no end to this -felicitous and dulcet strain. - -The best candied fruit I have ever eaten, I bought in a railway depot -at Venice. The Italians understand this art to perfection. They hang -the fruit by its natural stem on a long straw; and no better -accompaniment for a long railway journey can be imagined. - -The French do not consider bonbons unhealthful. Instead of giving her -boy a piece of bread and butter as he departs for the _Lycee_ the -French mamma gives him two or three chocolate bonbons. The hunter -takes these to the top of the Matterhorn; ladies take them in their -pockets instead of a lunch-basket; and one assured me that two slabs -of chocolate sufficed her for breakfast and supper on the road from -Paris to Rome. - -I do not know what Baron Liebig would say to this in his learned -articles on the "Nutritive Value of Certain Kinds of Food," but the -French children seem to be the healthiest in the world,--a tribute to -chocolate of the highest. "By their fruits shall ye know them." - -In the times of the Medici, and the St. Bartholomew Massacre, the -French and Italian nobles had a curious custom of always carrying -about with them, in the pockets of their silk doublets, costly little -boxes full of bonbons. Henry IV., Marie de Medici, and all their -friends and foes, carried about with them little gold and Limoges -enamelled boxes, very pretty and desirable articles of _vertu_ now; -and doubtless there was one full of red and white comfits in the -pocket of Mary Queen of Scots, when she fell dead, poor, ill-used, -beautiful woman, at the foot of the block, at Fotheringay. Doubtless -there was one in the pouch of the grisly Duc de Guise, with his -close-cropped bullet head, and long, spidery legs, when he fell, done -to death by treacherous Catherine de Medici, dead and bleeding on the -polished floor of Blois! It was a childish custom, and proved that the -age had a sweet tooth; but it might have been useful for diplomatic -purposes, and highly conducive to flirting. As a Lord Chief Justice -once said that "snuff and snuff-boxes help to develop character," so -the _bonbonniere_ helps to emphasize manners; and I am always pleased -when an old or new friend opens for me a little silver box and offers -me a sugared violet, or a rose leaf conserved in sugar, although I can -eat neither of them. - -A witty writer says that dessert should be "the girandole, or cunning -tableau of the dinner." It should "surprise, astonish, dazzle, and -enchant." We may almost decide upon the taste of an age as we read of -its desserts. The tasteless luxury and coarse pleasures of the reign -of Charles II.,--that society where Rochester fluttered and Buckingham -flaunted,--how it is all described in one dessert! At a dinner given -the father (of a great many) of his subjects by Lady Dormer, was built -a large gilded ship of confectionery. Its masts, cabins, portholes, -and lofty poop all smart and glittering, its rigging all taut, its -bunting flying, its figure-head bright as gold leaf could make it. Its -guns were charged with actual powder. Its cargo was two turreted pies, -one full of birds and the other of frogs. When borne in by the gay -pages, to the sound of music, the guns were discharged, the ladies -screamed and fainted, so as to "require to be held up and consoled by -the gallants, who offered them sips of Tokay." Poor little things! -Such was the Court of Charles. - -Then, to sweeten the smell of powder, the ladies threw at each other -egg-shells filled with fragrant waters; and "all danger being over," -they opened the pies. Out of one skipped live frogs; out of the other -flew live birds who put out the lights; so, what with the screams, the -darkness, the frogs, and the smell of powder, we get an idea of sports -at Whitehall, where blackbrowed, swarthy-visaged Charles presided, on -which grave Clarendon condescended to smile, and which the gentle -Evelyn and Waller were condemned to approve. - -We have not entirely refrained from such sugar emblems at our own -great feasts; but fortunately, they have rather gone out, excepting -for some emblem-haunted dinners where we do have sugared Monitors, -and chocolate torpedos. I have seen the lovely Venus of Milo in frozen -cream, which gave a wit the opportunity of saying that the home for -such a goddess should be the temple of Isis; and Bartholdi's immortal -Liberty lends herself to chocolate and nougat now and then, but very -rarely at private dinners. - -The fashion of our day, with its low dishes for the sweets, is so much -better, that we cannot help congratulating ourselves that we do not -live even in the days of the first George, when, as one witty author -again says, "the House of Brunswick brought over sound protestantism, -but German taste." Horace Walpole, great about trifles, incomparable -decider of the width of a shoe-buckle, keen despiser of all meannesses -but his own, neat and fastidious tripper along a flowery path over -this vulgar planet, derided the new fashion in desserts. The ambitious -confectioners, he says, "aspired to positive statuary, spindle-legged -Venus, dummy Mars, all made of sugar;" and he mentions a confectioner -of Lord Albemarle's who loudly complained that his lordship would not -break up the ceiling of his dining-room to admit the heads, -spear-points and upraised thunderbolts of a middle dish of Olympian -deities eighteen feet high, all made of sugar. - -The dishes known in France as _Les Quatres Mendiants_, one of nuts, -one of figs or dried fruit, one of raisins, and another of oranges, -still to be seen on old-fashioned dinner-tables, was, I supposed, so -called because it is seldom touched,--in fact, goes a-begging. - -But I have found this pretty little legend, which proves that it was -far more poetical in origin. The name in French for aromatic vinegar -is also connected with it. It is called "The Vinegar of the Four -Thieves." So runs the legend: "Once four thieves of Marseilles, -rubbing themselves with this vinegar during the plague, defied -infection and robbed the dead." Who were these wretches? All that we -know of them is that they dined beneath a tree on stolen walnuts and -grapes, and imagined the repast a feast. We can picture them, Holbein -men with slashed sleeves, as old soldiers of Francis I. who had -wrestled with the Swiss. We can imagine them as beaten about by -Burgundian peasants; and we know that they were grim, brown, scarred -rascals, cutting purses, snatching silken cloaks,--sturdy, resolute, -heartless, merry, desperate, God-forsaken scoundrels, living only for -the moment. We can imagine Callot etching their rags, or Rembrandt -putting in their dark shadows and high lights. We can see Salvator -Rosa admiring them as they sleep under the green oak-tree, their heads -on a dead deer, and the high rock above. Or we may get old Teniers to -draw them for us, gambling with torn and greasy cards for a gold -crucifix or a brass pot, or revelling at the village inn, swaggering, -swearing, drunk, or tipsy, playing at shuffle-board. The only point in -their history worth recording is that they were destined to be asked -to every dinner party for four hundred years!--simply preceding the -bonbons, as we see by the following verses:-- - - "Once on a time, in the brave Henry's age, - Four beggars dining underneath a tree - Combined their stores; each from his wallet drew - Handfuls of stolen fruit, and sang for glee. - - "So runs the story,--'_Garcon_, bring the _carte_, - Soup, cutlets--stay--and mind, a _matelotte_.' - And 'Charles,--a pint of Burgundy's best Beanne; - In our deep glasses every joy shall float!' - - "And '_Garcon_, bring me from the woven frail - That turbaned merchants from fair Smyrna sent, - The figs with golden seeds, the honeyed fruit, - That feast the stranger in the Syrian tent. - - "'Go fetch us grapes from all the vintage rows - Where the brave Spaniards gaily quaff the wine, - What time the azure ripple of the waves - Laughs bright beneath the green leaves of the vine! - - "'Nor yet, unmindful of the fabled scrip, - Forget the nuts from Barcelona's shore, - Soaked in Iberian oil from olives pressed, - To the crisp kernels adding one charm more. - - "'The almonds last, plucked from a sunny tree, - Half way up Lybanus, blanched as snowy white - As Leila's teeth, and they will fitly crown - The beggars' four-fold dish for us to-night. - - "'Beggars are happy! then let us be so; - We've buried care in wine's red-glowing sea. - There let him soaking lie--he was our foe; - Joy laughs above his grave--and so will we!'" - -It was from that love of contrast, then, was it, which is a part of -all luxury, that the fable of the _Quatre Mendiants_ was made to serve -like the olives at dessert. Perhaps the fillip which walnuts give to -wine suggested it. It was a modern French rendering of the skull made -to do duty as a drinking-cup. It is a part of the five kernels of corn -at a Pilgrim dinner, without that high conscientiousness of New -England. It is a part, perhaps, of the more melancholy refrain, "Be -merry, be merry, for to-morrow ye die!" It is that warmth is warmer -when we remember cold; it is that food is good when we remember the -starving; it is that _bringing in_ of the pleasant vision of the four -beggars under the tree, as a picture perhaps; at any rate there it -is, moral at your pleasure. - -The desserts of the middle ages were heavy and cumbrous affairs, and -had no special character. There would be a good deal of Cellini cup -and Limoges plate, and Palissy dish, and golden chased goblet about -it, no doubt. How glad the collectors of to-day would be to get them! -And we picture the heavy indigestible cakes, and poisonous bonbons. -The taste must have been questionable if we can believe Ben Jonson, -who tells of the beribboned dwarf jester who, at a Lord Mayor's -dinner, took a flying header into a dish of custard, to the infinite -sorrow of ladies' dresses; he followed, probably, that dish in which -the dwarf Sir Geoffrey Hudson was concealed, and they both are after -Tom Thumb, who was fishing about in a cup of posset a thousand years -ago. - -The dessert is allowed by all French writers to be of Italian origin; -and we read of the _maitres d'hotel_, before the Italian dessert -arrived, probably introduced by Catherine de Medici and the Guises, -that they gloried in mountains of fruit, and sticky hills of -sweetmeats. The elegance was clumsy and ostentatious; there was no -poetry in it. Paul Veronese's picture of the "Marriage of Cana" will -give some idea of the primeval French dessert. The later fashion was -of those trees and gardens and puppets abused by Horace Walpole; but -Frenchmen delighted in seas of glass, flower-beds formed of coloured -sand, and little sugar men and women promenading in enamelled -bowling-greens. We get some idea of the magnificent fetes of Louis -XIV. at Versailles from the glowing descriptions of Moliere. - -Dufoy in 1805 introduced "frizzled muslin into a slice of fairyland;" -that is, he made extraordinary pictures of temples and trees, for the -centre of his dessert. And these palaces and temples were said to have -been of perfect proportions; his trees of frizzled muslin were -admirable. It sounds very much like children's toys just now. - -He went further, Dufoy; having ransacked heaven and earth, air and -water, he thrust his hand into the fire, and made harmless rockets -shoot from his sugar temples. Sugar rocks were strewn about with -precipices of nougat, glaciers of vanilla candy, and waterfalls of -spun sugar. A confectioner in 1805 had to keep his wits about him, for -after every victory of Napoleon he was expected to do the whole thing -in sugar. He was decorator, painter, architect, sculptor, and -florist--icer, yes, until after the Russian campaign, and then--they -had had enough of ice. Thus we see that the dessert has always been -more for the eye than for the stomach. - -The good things which have been said over the walnuts and the wine! -The pretty books written about claret and olives! One author says that -if all the good things which have been said about the gay and smiling -dessert could be printed, it would make a pleasant anecdotic little -pamphlet of four thousand odd pages! - -We must not forget all the absurdities of the dessert. The Prince -Regent, whose tastes inclined to a vulgar and spurious Orientalism, at -one of his costly feasts at Carleton House had a channel of real water -running around the table, and in this swam gold and silver fish. The -water was only let on at dessert. - -These fancies may be sometimes parodied in our own time, as the bonbon -makers of Paris now devote their talents to the paper absurdities of -harlequins, Turks, Chinamen, and all the vagaries of a fancy-dress -ball with which the passengers of steamships amuse themselves after -the Captain's dinner. This is not that legitimate dessert at which we -now find ices disguised as natural fruits, or copying a rose. All the -most beautiful forms in the world are now reproduced in the frozen -water or cream, as healthful as it is delicious, in the famous jelly -with maraschino, or the delicate bonbon with the priceless liqueur, -or, better still, that _eau de menthe_ cordial, our own green -peppermint, which, after all, saves as by one mouthful from the -horrors of indigestion and adds that "thing more exquisite still" to -the perfect dessert,--a good night's sleep. - - - - -FAMOUS MENUS AND RECIPES. - - Gather up the fragments that remain that nothing be lost. - JOHN vi. 12. - - -This is not intended to be a cookery book; but in order to help the -young housekeeper we shall give some hints as to _menus_ and a few -rare recipes. - -The great line of seacoast from New York to Florida presents us with -some unrivalled delicacies, and the negroes of the State of Maryland, -which was founded by a rich and luxurious Lord Baltimore, knew how to -cook the terrapin, the canvas-back duck, oysters, and the superb wild -turkey,--not to speak of the well-fattened poultry of that rich and -luxurious Lorraine of America, "Maryland, my Maryland," which Oliver -Wendell Holmes calls the "gastronomical centre of the universe." - -Here is an old Virginia recipe for cooking terrapin, which is rare and -excellent:-- - - Take three large, live, diamond-backed terrapin, plunge them - in boiling water for three minutes, to take off the skin, wipe - them clean, cook them in water slightly salted, drain them, - let them get cold, open and take out everything from the - shell. In removing the entrails care must be taken not to - break the gall. Cut off the head, tail, nails, gall, and - bladder. Cut the meat in even-size pieces, put them in a - sauce-pan with four ounces of butter, add the terrapin eggs, - and moisten them with a half pint of Madeira wine. Let the - mixture cook until the moisture is reduced one-half. Then add - two spoonfuls of cream sauce. After five minutes add the yolks - of four raw eggs diluted with a half-cup of cream. Season with - salt and a pinch of red pepper. The mixture should not boil - after the yolk of egg is added. Toss in two ounces of butter - before serving. The heat of the mess will cook egg and butter - enough. Serve with quartered lemon. - -This is, perhaps, if well-cooked, the most excellent of all American -dishes. - -A chicken gumbo soup is next:-- - - Cut up one chicken, wash and dry it, dip it in flour, salt and - pepper it, then fry it in hot lard to a delicate brown. - - In a soup kettle place five quarts of water and your chicken, - let it boil hard for two hours, cut up twenty-four okra pods, - add them to the soup, and boil the whole another hour. One - large onion should be put in with the chicken. Add red pepper - to taste, also salt, not too much, and serve with rice. Dried - okra can be used, but must be soaked over night. - -Another Maryland success was the tomato catsup:-- - - Boil one bushel of tomatoes until soft, squeeze through a - sieve, add to the juice half a gallon of vinegar, 1-1/2 pints - salt, 3 ounces of whole cloves, 1 ounce of allspice, 2 ounces - of cayenne pepper, 3 tablespoonfuls of black pepper, 3 heads - of garlic, skinned and separated; boil three hours or until - the quantity is reduced one-half, bottle without skimming. The - spices should be put in a muslin bag, which must be taken out, - of course, before bottling. If desired 1 peck of onions can be - boiled, passed through a sieve, and the juice added to the - tomatoes. - - _Green pepper pickles_: Half a pound of mustard seed soaked - over night, 1 quart of green pepper chopped, 2 quarts of - onions chopped, 4 quarts of cucumbers also chopped, 8 quarts - of green tomatoes chopped, 6 quarts of cabbage chopped; mix - and measure. To every gallon of this mixture add one teacup of - salt, let it stand until morning, then squeeze perfectly dry - with the hands. Then add 8 pounds of sugar, and cover with - good vinegar and boil five minutes. After boiling, and while - still hot, squeeze perfectly dry, then add 2 ounces of cloves, - 2 ounces of allspice, 3 ounces of cinnamon and the mustard - seed. - - The peppers should be soaked in brine thirty-six or - forty-eight hours. After soaking, wipe dry and stuff, place - them in glass jars, and cover with fresh vinegar. - -This was considered the triumph of the Southern housekeeper. - - _Chicken with spaghetti_: Stir four sliced onions in two - ounces of butter till very soft, add one quart of peeled - tomatoes; stew chicken in water until tender, and pick to - pieces. Add enough of the gravy to make a quart, put with the - onions and tomatoes. Let it stew fifteen minutes gently. Put - into boiling water 2-1/2 pounds of spaghetti and a handful of - salt, boil twenty minutes or until tender; drain this and put - in a layer on a platter sprinkled with grated cheese, and pour - the stew on it. Fill the platter with these layers, reserving - the best of the chicken to lay on top. - -The old negro cooks made a delicious confection known as confection -cake. Those who lived to tell of having eaten it declared that it was -a dream. It certainly leads to dreams, and bad ones, but it is worth a -nightmare:-- - - 1-1/2 cups of sugar, 2-1/2 cups of flour, 1/2 cup of butter, 1/2 - cup of sweet milk, whites of six eggs, 3 small teaspoons of - baking powder. Bake in two or three layers on a griddle. - - _Filling_: 1 small cocoanut grated, 1 pound almonds blanched, - and cut up not too fine, 1 teacup of raisins chopped, 1 teacup - of citron chopped, 4 eggs, whites only, 7 tablespoonfuls of - pulverized sugar to each egg. - -Mix this destructive substance well in the froth of egg, and spread -between the layers of cake when they are hot; set it a few minutes in -the oven, but do not burn it, and you have a delicious and profoundly -indigestible dessert. You will be able to write Sartor Resartus, after -eating of it freely. - - _Walnut Cake_: 1 cup of butter, 2 cups of sugar, 6 eggs, 4 - cups of flour, 1 cup of milk, 2 teaspoonfuls of yeast powder. - -This is also baked in layers, and awaits the dynamite filling which is -to blow you up:-- - - _Walnut Filling_: 2 cups of brown sugar, 1 cup of cream, a - piece of butter the size of an egg. Cook twenty minutes, - stirring all the time; when ready to take off the stove put in - one cup of walnut meats. After this has cooked a few minutes - longer, spread between the layers, and while both cake and - filling are hot. - -Perhaps a few _menus_ may be added here to assist the memory of her -"who does not know what to have for dinner:"-- - - Tomato Soup. - Golden Sherry. Whitefish broiled. Claret. - Mashed potatoes. - Round of beef _braise_, Madeira. - with glazed onions. - Champagne. Roast plover with cress. Chateau Yquem. - Chiccory Salad. - Custard flavoured with vanilla. - Cheese. Cordials. - Chambertin. Fruit. - Coffee. - -Or a plain dinner:-- - - Sherry. Oxtail Soup. Claret. - _Filet_ of lobster _a la Mazarin_. - Turkey rings with _puree_ of chestnuts. - Salad of fresh tomatoes. - Cream tart with meringue. Cheese. - -This last dinner is perhaps enough for only a small party, but it is -very well composed. A much more elaborate _menu_ follows:-- - - Oysters on the half-shell. - Soup: - _Consomme royale_. - Fish: Rudesheimer. - Fried smelts, sauce Tartare, - Duchess potatoes. - Sherry. _Releves_: - Boned capon. - Roast ham. Champagne. - Madeira, _Entrees_: - Sweetbreads _braise_. - Quails. Claret. - _Sorbet au kirsch_. - Game: - Port, Broiled woodcock, Chambertin. - Canvas-back duck. - Vegetables: - Cauliflower, Spinach, French peas, - Stewed tomatoes. Chateau Yquem. - Dessert: - Frozen pudding, _Biscuits Diplomats_. - _Meringues Chantilly_, Assorted Cake. - Fruit. - Brandy. Coffee. Cordials. - -An excellent bill of fare for eight persons, in the month of October, -is the following:-- - - Soup. - Bisque of crayfish. - Fish. - Baked smelts, _a la Mentone_, - Potato balls, _a la Rouenaise_, - Ribs of beef braised, stewed with vegetables. - Brussels sprouts. - Roast birds, or quail on toast. - Celery salad. - -To make a bisque of crayfish is a very delicate operation, but it is -worth trying:-- - - Have three dozen live crayfish, wash them well, and take the - intestines out by pinching the extreme end of the centre fin, - when with a sudden jerk the gall can be withdrawn. Put in a - stewpan two ounces of butter, with a carrot, an onion, two - stalks of celery, two ounces of salted pork, all sliced fine, - and a bunch of parsley; fry ten minutes, add the crayfish, - with a pint of French white wine and a quart of veal broth. - Stir and boil gently for an hour, then drain all in a large - strainer, take out the bunch of parsley and save the broth; - pick the shells off the crayfish tails, trim them neatly and - keep until wanted. Cook separately a pint and a half of rice, - with three pints of veal broth, pound the rest of the crayfish - and vegetables, add the rice, pound again, dilute with the - broth of the crayfish, and add more veal broth if too thick. - Pass forcibly through a fine sieve with a wooden presser, put - the residue in a saucepan, warm without boiling, and stir all - the while with a wooden spoon. Finish with three ounces of - table butter, a glass of Madeira wine, and a pinch of cayenne - pepper; serve hot in soup tureen with the crayfish tails. - - _To prepare baked smelts a la Mentone_: Spread in a large and - narrow baking-dish some fish forcemeat half an inch thick, - have two dozen large, fresh, well-cleaned smelts, lay them - down in a row on the forcemeat, season with salt, pepper, and - grated nutmeg, pour over a thick white Italian sauce, sprinkle - some bread crumbs on them, put a small pat of butter on each - one and bake for half an hour in a pretty hot oven, then - squeeze the juice of a lemon over and serve in a baking-dish. - - _To make potato balls a la Rouenaise_: Boil the potatoes and - rub them fine, then roll each ball in white of egg, lay them - on a floured table, roll into shape of a pigeon's egg, dip - them in melted butter, and fry a light brown in clear hot - grease. Sprinkle fine salt over and serve in a folded napkin. - - _To prepare braised ribs of beef_: Have a small set of three - ribs cut short, cook it as _beef a la mode_, that is, stew it - with spices and vegetables, dish it up with carrots, turnips, - and onions, pour the reduced gravy over. - - _To prepare Brussels sprouts, demi-glace_: Trim and wash the - sprouts, soak them in boiling salted water about thirty - minutes, cool them in cold water, and drain them. Put six - ounces of butter in a large frying-pan, melt it and put the - sprouts in it, season with salt and pepper, fry on a brisk - fire until thoroughly hot, serve in a dish with a rich - drawn-butter sauce with chopped parsley. - -A diplomatic supper was once served at the White House, of which the -following _menu_ is an accurate report:-- - - Salmon with green sauce. - Cold boned turkey, with truffles. - _Pates_ of game, truffled. - Ham cooked in Madeira sauce. - Aspic of chicken. - _Pate de foie gras._ - Salads of chicken and lobster in forms, surrounded by jelly. - Pickled oysters. Sandwiches. - Scalloped oysters. - Stewed terrapin. - Chicken and lobster croquettes. - _Chocolat a la creme._ Coffee. - Dessert: - Ices. Fancy meringue baskets filled with cream. - Pancakes. Large cakes. - Fancy jellies. Charlotte Russe. - Fruits. - Cake. Wafers. Nougat. - -One could have satisfied an appetite with all this. - -General Grant was probably the most _feted_ American who ever visited -Europe. He was entertained by every monarch and by many most -distinguished citizens. The Duke of Wellington opened the famous -Waterloo Room in Apsley House in his honour, and toasted him as the -first soldier of the age. But it is improbable that he ever had a -better dinner than the following:-- - -It was given to him in New York, in 1880, at the Hotel Brunswick. It -was for ten people only, in a private parlour, arranged as a -dining-room _en suite_ with the Venetian parlour. The room was in rich -olive and bronze tints. The buffet glittered with crystal, and -Venetian glass. On the side tables were arranged the coffee service -and other accessories. The whole room was filled with flowers, the -chandelier hung with smilax, dotted with carnations. The table was -arranged with roses, heliotrope, and carnations, the deep purple and -green grapes hanging over gold dishes. The dinner service was of white -porcelain with heliotrope border, the glass of iridescent crystal. The -furnishing of the Venetian parlour, the rich carvings, the suits of -armour, the antique chairs were all mediaeval; the dinner was modern -and American:-- - - Oysters. - Soup, _Consomme Royale_. - Fish: - Fried smelts, sauce Tartare. - _Releves_: - Boned capon. - _Entrees_: - Sweetbreads, _braise_, Quails, _a la Perigord_. - _Sorbet au kirsch_. - Game. - Broiled woodcock, Canvas-back duck. - Terrapin. - Vegetables: - Cauliflower, Spinach, Artichokes, French peas. - Dessert: - _Biscuits Diplomatiques_, Frozen pudding, - _Meringue Chantilly_, Assorted cakes. - Fruit. Coffee. Cigars. - Liqueurs. - -Probably the last item interested and amused the General, who was no -_gourmet_, much more than even the terrapin. - -This _menu_ for a November dinner cannot be surpassed. - - - - -COOKERY AND WINES OF THE SOUTH OF EUROPE. - - Aufidius for his morning beverage used - Honey in strong Falernian wine infused; - But here methinks he showed his want of brains: - Drink less austere best suits the empty veins. - - * * * * * - - Shell fish afford a lubricating slime! - But then you must observe both place and time. - They're caught the finest when the moon is new; - The Lucrine far excel the Baian too. - Misenum shines in cray fish; Circe most - In oysters; scollops let Tarentum boast. - The culinary critic first should learn - Each nicer shade of flavour to discern: - To sweep the fish stalls is mere show at best - - * * * * * - - Unless you know how each thing should be drest. - Let boars of Umbrian game replete with mast, - If game delights you, crown the rich repast. - SATIRES OF HORACE. - - -Italian cookery is excellent at its best. The same drift of talent, -the same due sense of proportion which showed itself in all their art, -which built St. Mark's and the Duomo, the Ducal Palace, the Rialto, -and the churches of Palladio, comes out in their cookery. Their cooks -are Michel Angelo and Leonardo da Vinci in a humbler sphere. - -They mingle cheese in cookery, with great effect; nothing can be -better than their cauliflower covered with Parmesan cheese, and -baked. Macaroni in all its forms is of course admirable. They have -mastered the use of sweet oil, which in their cookery never tastes -oily; it is simply a lambent richness. - -The great dish, wild boar, treated with a sweet and a sour sauce, with -pine cones, is an excellent dish. Wild boar is a lean pork with a game -flavour. All sorts of birds, especially _becafico_, are well cooked, -they lose no juice or flavour over the fire. - -They make a dozen preparations of Indian meal, which are very good for -breakfast. One little round cake, like a muffin, tastes almost of -cocoanut; this is fried in oil, and is most delicious. - -The _frittala_ is another well-known dish, and is composed of liver, -bacon, and birds, all pinned on a long stick, or iron pin. - -In an Italian palace, if you have the good luck to be asked, the -dinner is handsome. It is served in twelve courses in the Russian -manner, and if national dishes are offered they are disguised as -inelegant. But at an ordinary farmhouse in the hills near Florence, or -at the ordinary hotels, there will be a good soup, trout fresh from -the brooks, fresh butter, macaroni with cheese, a fat capon, and a -delicious omelette, enriched with morsels of kidney or fat bacon, a -_frittala_, a bunch of grapes, a bottle of Pogio secco, or the sweet -Italian straw wine. - -The Italians are very frugal, and would consider the luxurious -overflow of American munificent hospitality as vulgar. At parties in -Rome, Naples, and Florence it is not considered proper to offer much -refreshment. At Mr. Story's delightful receptions American hospitality -reigned at afternoon tea, as it did in all houses where the hostess -was American, but at the houses of the Princes nothing was offered but -weak wine and water and little cakes. - -Many travellers have urged that the cookery of the common Italian -dinner is too much flavoured with garlic, but in a winter spent in -travelling through Italy I did not find it so. I remember a certain -leg of lamb with beans which had a slight taste of onions, but that is -all. They have learned, as the French have, that the onion is to -cookery what accent is to speech. It should not be _trop prononcee_. -The lamb and pistachio nuts of the Arabian Nights is often served and -is delicious. - -They give you in an Italian country house for breakfast, at twelve -o'clock, a sort of thick soup, very savoury, probably made of chicken -with an herb like okra, one dish of meat smothered in beans or -tomatoes, followed by a huge dish of macaroni with cheese, or with -morsels of ham through it. Then a white curd with powdered cinnamon, -sugar, and wine, a bottle of _vino santo_, a cup of coffee or -chocolate, and bread of phenomenal whiteness and lightness. - -Alas, for the poor people! They live on the chestnuts, the frogs, or -nothing. The porter at the door of some great house is seen eating a -dish of frogs, which are, however, so well cooked that they send up an -appetizing fragrance more like a stew of crabs than anything else. One -sees sometimes a massive ancient house, towering up in mediaeval -grandeur, with shafts of marble, and columns of porphyry, lonely, -desolate, and beautiful, infinitely impressive, infinitely grand. Some -member of a once illustrious family lives within these ruined walls, -on almost nothing. He would have to kill his pet falcon to give you a -dinner, while around his time-honoured house cluster his tenants -shaking with malaria,--pale, unhappy, starved people. It is not a -cheerful sight, but it can be seen in southern Italy. - -The prosperous Italians will give you a well-cooked meal, an immense -quantity of bonbons, and the most exquisite candied fruits. Their -_confetti_ are wonderful, their cakes and ices, their candied fruit, -their _tutti frutti_, are beyond all others. They crown every feast -with a Paradise in spun sugar. - -But they despise and fear a fire, and foreigners are apt to find the -old Italian palaces dreary, and very cold. A recent traveller writes -from Florence: "I have been within the walls of five Italian houses at -evening parties, at three of them, music and no conversation; all -except one held in cold rooms, the floors black, imperfectly covered -with drugget, and no fire; conversation, to me at least, very dull; -the topics, music, personal slander,--for religion, government, and -literature, were generally excluded from polite society. In only one -house, of which the mistress was a German, was tea handed around; -sometimes not even a cup of water was passed." We learn from the -novels of Marion Crawford that the Italians do not often eat in each -others' houses. - -Victor Emmanuel, the mighty hunter, had a mighty appetite. He used to -dine alone, before the hour for the State dinner. Then with sword in -hand, leaning on its jewelled hilt, in full uniform, his breast -covered with orders, the King sat at the head of his table, and talked -with his guests while the really splendid dinner was served. - -Royal banquets are said to be dull. The presence of a man so much -above the others in rank has a depressing effect. The guest must -console himself with the glorious past of Italy, and fix his eyes on -the magnificent furniture of the table, the cups of Benvenuto Cellini, -the vases of Capo di Monti, the superb porcelain, and the Venetian -glass, or he must devote himself to the lamb and pistachio nuts, the -_choux fleurs aux Parmesan_, or the truffles, which are nowhere so -large or so fine as at an Italian dinner. Near Rome they are rooted -out of the oak forests by the king's dogs, and are large and full of -flavour. - -King Humbert has inherited his father's taste for hunting, and sends -presents of the game he has shot to his courtiers. - -The housekeeping at the Quirinal is excellent; a royal supper at a -royal ball is something to remember. And what wines to wash them down -with!--the delicious Lacryma Christi, the Falerno or Capri, the -Chianti, the Sestio Levante or Asti. Asti is a green wine, rich, -strong, and sweet. It makes people ill if they drink it before it is -quite old enough--but perhaps it is not often served at royal -banquets. - -Verdeaux was a favourite wine of Frederic the Great, but Victor -Emmanuel's wine was the luscious _Monte Pulciano_. - - "Monte Pulciano d'ogni vino e il Re." - -The brilliant purple colour, like an amethyst, of this noble wine is -unlike any other. The aromatic odour is delicious; its sweetness is -tempered by an agreeable sharpness and astringency; it leaves a -flattering flavour on the tongue. - -These best Italian wines have a deliciousness which eludes analysis, -like the famous Monte Beni, which old Tommaso produced in a small -straw-covered flask at the visit of Kenyon to Donatello. This -invaluable wine was of a pale golden hue, like other of the rarest -Italian wines, and if carelessly and irreligiously quaffed, might have -been mistaken for a sort of champagne. It was not, however, an -effervescing wine, although its delicate piquancy produced a somewhat -similar effect upon the palate. Sipping, the guest longed to sip -again, but the wine demanded so deliberate a pause in order to detect -the hidden peculiarities, and subtile exquisiteness of its flavour, -that to drink it was more a moral than a physical delight. There was a -deliciousness in it which eluded description, and like whatever else -that is superlatively good was perhaps better appreciated by the -memory than by present consciousness. One of its most ethereal charms -lay in the transitory life of the wine's richest qualities; for while -it required a certain leisure and delay, yet if you lingered too long -in the draught, it became disenchanted both of its fragrance and -flavour. The lustre and colour should not be forgotten among the other -good qualities of the Monte Beni wine, for "as it stood in Kenyon's -glass, a little circle of light glowed on the table around about it as -if it were really so much golden sunshine." - -There are few wines worthy of this beautiful eloquence of Hawthorne. -The description bears transportation; the wine did not. The -transportation of even a few miles turned it sour. That is the trouble -with Italian wines. Monte Pulciano and Chianti do bear transportation. -Italy sends much of the latter wine to New York. Italy has, however, -never produced a really good dry wine, with all its vineyards. - -The dark Grignolino wine grown in the vineyards of Asterau and -Monferrato possesses the remarkable quality of keeping better if -diluted with fresh water. - -The Falernian from the Bay of Naples, is the wine of the poets, nor -need we remind the classical scholar that the hills around Rome were -formerly supposed to produce it. - -The loose, volcanic soil about Mount Vesuvius grows the grapes from -which Lacryma Christi is produced. It is sometimes of a rich red -colour, though white and sparkling varieties are produced. - -The Italians are supremely fond of _al fresco_ entertainments,--their -fine climate making out-of-door eating very agreeable. How many a -traveller remembers the breakfast or dinner in a vine-covered _loggia_ -overhanging some splendid scene! It forms the subject of many a -picture, from those which illustrate the stories of Boccaccio up to -the beautiful sketch of Tasso, at the court of the Duc d'Este. The -dangers of these feasts have been immortalized in verse and prose from -Dante down, and Shakspeare has touched upon them twice. George Eliot -describes one in a "_loggia_ joining on a garden, with all one side of -the room open, and with numerous groups of trees and statues and -avenues of box, high enough to hide an assassin," in her wonderful -novel of Romola. In modern days, since the Borgias are all killed, no -one need fear to eat out-of-doors in Italy. - -Not much can be said of the cookery of Spain. In the principal hotels -of Spain one gets all the evils of both Spanish and Gascon cookery. -Garlic is the favourite flavour, and the bad oil expressed from the -olive, skin, seed and all, allowed to stand until it is rancid, is -beloved of the Spanish, but hated by all other nations. I believe, -however, that an _olla podrida_ made in a Spanish house is very good. -It may not be inappropriate here to give two recipes for macaroni. The -first, _macaroni au gratin_ is very rarely found good in an -American house:-- - - Break two ounces of best Italian macaroni into a pint of - highly seasoned stock, let it simmer until very tender. When - done, toss it up with a small piece of butter, and add pepper - and salt to taste; put in a large meat dish, sift over it some - fried bread-crumbs, and serve. It will take about an hour to - cook, and should be covered with the stock all the time. - - * * * * * - - _Macaroni with Parmesan cheese_: Boil two ounces of macaroni - in half a pint of water, with an ounce of butter, until - perfectly tender. If the water evaporates add a little more, - taking care that the macaroni does not stick to the stewpan, - or become broken. When it is done, drain away the water and - stir in two ounces of good cheese grated, cayenne pepper and - salt to taste. Keep stirring until the cheese is dissolved. - Pour on to a hot dish and serve. A little butter may be - stirred into the macaroni before the cheese, and is an - improvement. - -Through the Riviera, and indeed in the south of France, one meets with -many peculiar dishes. No one who has read Thackeray need be reminded -of _bouillabaise_, that famous fish chowder of Marseilles. It is, -however, only our chowder with much red pepper. A cook can try it if -she chooses, and perhaps achieve it after many failures. - -There are so many very good dishes awaiting the efforts of a young -American housewife, that she need not go out of her way to extemporize -or explore. The best cook-book for foreign dishes is still the old -Francatelli. - -The presence in our midst of Italian warehouses, adds an infinite -resource to the housewife. Those stimulants to the appetite called -_hors d'oeuvres_, we call them relishes, are much increased by -studying the list of Italian delicacies. Anchovy or caviar, potted -meat, grated tongue, potted cheese, herring salad, the inevitable -olive, and many other delicacies could be mentioned which aid -digestion, and make the plainest table inexpensively luxurious. The -Italians have all sorts of delicate vegetables preserved in bottles, -mixed and ready for use in a _jardiniere_ dressing; also the best of -cheeses, _gargonzala_, and of course the truffle, which they know how -to cook so well. - -The Italians have conquered the art of cooking in oil, so that you do -not taste the oil. It is something to live for, to eat their fried -things. - -Speaking of the south of Europe reminds us of that wonderful bit of -orientalism out of place, which is called Algiers, and which France -has enamelled on her fabulous and many-coloured shield. Algiers has -become not only a winter watering-place, high in favour with the -traveller, but it is a great wine-growing country. The official -statement of Lieut. Col. Sir R. L. Playfair, her Majesty's -consul-general, may be read with interest, dated 1889: - -"Viticulture in Algeria, was in 1778 in its infancy; now nearly one -hundred and twenty-five thousand acres are under cultivation with -vines, and during the last year about nine hundred thousand -hectolitres of wine were produced. In 1873 Mr. Eyre Ledyard, an -English cultivator of the vine in Algeria, bought the property of -Chateau Hydra near Algiers. He found on it five acres of old and badly -planted vineyards, which produced about seven hogsheads of wine. He -has extended this vineyard and carried on his work with great -intelligence and industry. He cultivates the following varieties: the -Mourvedie, of a red colour resembling Burgundy, Cariguan, giving a -wine good, dark, and rough, Alicante or Grenache, Petit Bouschet, -Cabernot and Cot, a Burgundy, Perian Lyra, Aramen, and St. Saux. - -Chasselas succeeds well; the grapes are exported to France for the -table. - -Clairette produces abundantly and makes a good dry wine. Ainin Kelb, -more correctly Ain Kelb, dog's-eye, is an Arab grape which makes a -good strong wine, but which requires keeping. Muscat is a capricious -bearer. From the two last-named varieties, sweet as well as dry wines -are produced by adding large quantities of alcohol to the juice of the -grape, and thus preventing fermentation. The crops yield quantities -varying from seven hundred gallons per acre in rich land to four -hundred on the hillside, except Cariguan which yields more. Aramen -yields as much, but the quality is inferior. - -The red wines are sent to Bordeaux and Burgundy, to give strength and -quality to the French clarets, as they are very useful for blending. -The dry, white wine is rather stronger and fuller than that of France -or Germany, and is much used to give additional value to the thinner -qualities of Rhine wine. - -The cellars of Chateau Hydra, are now probably the best in the colony. -They are excavated in the soft rock here incorrectly called tufa, in -reality an aggregation of minutely pulverized shells; it is soft and -sandy, and easily excavated. The surface becomes harder by exposure to -the atmosphere, and it is not subject to crumbling. - -Mr. Ledyard has excavated extensive cells in this rock, in which -extreme evenness of temperature is ensured,--a condition most -necessary for the proper manufacture of wine. - -Mr. Eyre Ledyard's vineyards and cellars of the Chateau Hydra estate -are now farmed by the _Societe Anonyme Viticole et Vinicole d'Hydra_, -of which Mr. Ledyard is chairman. These wines have been so -successfully shipped to England and other countries that the company -now buys grapes largely from the best vineyards, in order to make -sufficient wines to meet the demand. The Hydra Company supplies wine -to all vessels of the Ocean Company going to India and China. A very -carefully prepared quinine white wine is made for invalids, and for -use in countries where there is fever. I especially recommend a trial -of this last excellent wine to Americans, as it is most agreeable as -well as healthful. The postal address is M. Le Gerant, Hydra Caves, -Birmandreis, Algiers. - -All the stories of Algiers read like tales of the Arabian Nights, and -none is more poetic than the names and the story of these delicious -wines. - -The Greek wines are well spoken of in Europe: Santorin, and Zante, and -St. Elie, and Corinth, and Mount Hymettus, Vino Santo, and Cyprus, -while from Magyar vineyards come Visontae, Badescony, Dioszeg, -Bakator, Rust, Szamorodni, Oedenburger, Ofner, and Tokay. - -The Hungarian wines are very heady. He must be a swashbuckler who -drinks them. They are said to make the drinker grow fat. To this -unhappy class Brillat Savarin gives the following precepts:-- - -"Drink every summer thirty bottles of seltzer water, a large tumbler -the first thing in the morning, another before lunch, and the same at -bedtime. - -"Drink white wines, especially those which are light and acid, and -avoid beer as you would the plague. Ask frequently for radishes, -artichokes with hot sauce, asparagus, celery; choose veal and fowl -rather than beef and mutton, and eat as little of the crumb of bread -as possible. - -"Avoid macaroni and pea soup, avoid farinaceous food under whatever -form it assumes, and dispense with all sweets. At breakfast take brown -bread, and chocolate rather than coffee." - -Indeed Brillat Savarin seems to have inspired this later poet:-- - - "Talk of the nectar that flowed for celestials - Richer in headaches it was than hilarity! - Well for us animals, frequently bestials, - Hebe destroyed the recipe as a charity! - Once I could empty my glass with the best of 'em, - Somehow my system has suffered a shock o' late; - Now I shun spirits, wine, beer, and the rest of 'em, - Fill me, then fill me, a bumper of chocolate. - - "Once I drank logwood, and quassia and turpentine, - Liqueurs with coxcubes, aloes, and gentian in, - Sure, 't is no wonder my path became serpentine, - Getting a state I should blush now to mention in. - Farewell to Burgundy, farewell to Sillery, - I have not tasted a drop e'en of Hock o' late, - Long live the kettle, my dear old distillery, - Fill me, oh fill me, a bumper of chocolate." - -As we cannot all drink chocolate, I recommend the carefully prepared -white wine, with quinine in it, which comes from Chateau Hydra in -Algiers, or some of the Italian wines, Barolo for instance, or the -excellent native wines which are produced in Savoy. - -About Aix les Bains, where the cuisine is the best in Europe, many -wines are manufactured which are honest wines with no headaches in -them. - - - - -SOME ODDITIES IN THE ART OF ENTERTAINING. - -"Comparisons are odorous." - - I prithee let me bring thee where crabs grow; - And I with my long nails will dig thee pig nuts; - Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how - To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee - To clustering filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee - Young staniels from the rocks. Wilt thou go with me? - THE TEMPEST. - - -In the lamb roasted whole we have one of the earliest dishes on record -in the history of cookery. Stuffed with pistachio nuts, and served -with pilaf, it illustrates the antiquity of the art, and at the same -time gives an example of the food upon which millions of our fellow -creatures are sustained. - -At a dinner of the Acclimatization Society in London, all manner of -strange and new dishes were offered, even the meat of the horse. A -roast monkey filled with chestnuts was declared to be delicious; the -fawn of fallow deer was described as good; buffalo meat was not so -highly commended; a red-deer ham was considered very succulent; a -sirloin of bear was "tough, glutinous, and had, besides, a dreadful, -half-aromatic, half-putrescent flavour, as though it had been rubbed -with assafoetida and then hung for a month in a musk shop." - -We will not try bear unless we are put to it. However, at this same -dinner--we read on--haunch of venison, saddle of mutton, roast beef of -old England, which is really the roast beef which is of old Normandy -now, all gave way to a Chinese lamb roasted whole, stuffed with -pistachio nuts, and served with _consousson_, a preparation of wheat -used among the Moors, Africans, and other natives of the north of -Africa littoral, in place of rice. The Moorish young ladies are, it is -said, fattened into beauty by an enforced meal of this strengthening -compound. The _consousson_ is made into balls and stuffed into the -mouths of the marriageable young lady, until she grows as tired of -balls as a young belle of three seasons. - -In Spain, in those damp swamps near Valencia, where the poor are old -before forty and die before forty-five, the best rice sells at eleven -farthings, the poorest at eight farthings per pound. This, cooked with -the ground dust of _pimientos_, or capsicums, is the foundation of -every stew in the south of Spain. It is of a rich brick-dust hue, and -is full of fire and flavour. Into this stew the cook puts the -"reptiles of the sea" known as "spotted cats," "toads" and other oily -fish, sold at two pence a pound, or the _vogar_, a silvery fish, or -the _gallina_, a coarse fish, chick peas, garlic, pork, and sausages. -If rich she will make an _olla podrida_ with bacon, fresh meat, -potatoes, cabbages, and she will pour off the soup, calling it -_caldo_, then the lumps of meat and bacon, called _cocida_, will be -served next. Then the cigarette is smoked. If you are a king she will -add a quince and an apple to the stew. - -Of puddings and pies they know nothing; but what fruit they -have!--watermelons weighing fifteen pounds apiece; lemon pippins -called _perillons_; crimson, yellow, and purple plums; purple and -green figs; tomatoes by the million; carob beans, on which half the -nation lives; small cucumbers and gourds; large black grapes, very -sweet; white grapes and quinces; peaches in abundance; and all the -chestnuts and filberts in the world. In the summer they eat goat's -flesh; and on All Saints' Day they eat pork and chestnuts and sweet -_babatas_ of Malaga. In exile, in Mexico and Florida, the Spaniard -eats alligator, which could scarcely be called a game bird; but the -flesh of young alligators' tails is very fair, and tastes like chicken -if the tail is cut off immediately after death, and stewed. - -The frost fish of the Adirondacks is seldom tasted, except by those -who have spent a winter in the North Woods. They are delicious when -fried. There is a European fish as little known as this, the _Marena_, -caught in Lake Moris in the province of Pomerania, also in one lake in -southern Italy, which is very good. - -There are two birds known in Prussia, the bustard, and the kammel, the -former a species of small ostrich, once considered very fine eating, -the latter very tough, except under unusual conditions. - -The Chinese enjoy themselves by night. All their feasts and festivals -are kept then, generally by moonlight. When a Chinaman is poor he can -live on a farthing's worth of rice a day; when he gets rich he becomes -the most luxurious of sybarites, indulges freely in the most -_recherche_ delicacies of the table, and becomes, like any Roman -voluptuary, corpulent and phlegmatic. A lady thus describes a Chinese -dinner:-- - -"The hour was eleven A. M., the _locale_ a boat. Having heard much of -the obnoxious stuff I was to eat, I adopted the prescription of a -friend. 'Eat very little of any dish, and be a long time about it.' - -"We commenced with tea, and finished with soup. Some of the -intermediate dishes were shark's-fin; birds' nests brought from -Borneo, costing nearly a guinea a mouthful, fricassee of poodle, a -little dog almost a pig; the fish of the conch-shell, a substance like -wax or india rubber, which you might masticate but never mash; -peacock's liver, very fine and _recherche_; putrid eggs, nevertheless -very good; rice, of course, salted shrimps, baked almonds, cabbage in -a variety of forms, green ginger, stewed fungi, fresh fish of a dozen -kinds, onions _ad libitum_, salt duck cured like ham, and pig in every -form, roast, boiled, and fried, Foo-Chow ham which seemed to me equal -to Wiltshire. In fact, the Chinese excel in pork, though the English -there never touch it, under the supposition that the pigs are fed on -little babies. - -"But this is a libel. Of course a pig would eat a baby, as it would a -rattlesnake if it came across one; but the Chinese are very particular -about their swine and keep them penned up, rivalling the Dutch in -their scrubbing and washing. They grow whole fields of taro and herbs -for their pigs. And I do not believe that one porker in a million ever -tastes a baby." - -This traveller's sympathies appear to be with the pig. - -"About two o'clock we arose from the table, walked about, looked out -of the window. Large brass bowls were brought with water and towels. -Each one proceeded to perform ablutions, the Chinese washing their -heads; after which refreshing operation we resumed our seats and -re-commenced with another description of tea. - -"Seven different sorts of Samchou we partook of, made from rice, from -peas, from mangoes, cocoa-nut, all fermented liquors, and the mystery -remained,--I was not inebriated. The Samchou was drunk warm in tiny -cups, during the whole course of the dinner. - -"The whole was cooked without salt and tasted very insipid to me. The -bird's-nest seemed like glue or isinglass, but the coxcombs were -palatable. The dog-meat was like some very delicate gizzards -well-stewed, and of a short, close fibre. The dish which I most -fancied turned out to be rat. Upon taking a second help, after the -first taste I got the head, which made me rather sick; but I consoled -myself that when in California we ate ground squirrels which are first -cousins to the flat-tailed rats; and travellers who would know the -world must go in for manners and customs. We had tortoise and -frogs,--a curry of the latter was superior to chicken; we had fowls' -hearts, and the brains of some birds, snipe, I think. We had a -chow-chow of mangoes, rambustan preserved, salted cucumber, sweet -potatoes, yams, taro, all sorts of sweets made of rice sugar, and -cocoa-nuts; and the soup which terminated the entertainment was -certainly boiled tripe or some other internal arrangement; and I -wished I had halted some little time before. The whole was eaten with -chop-sticks or a spoon like a small spade or shovel. The sticks are -made into a kind of fork, being held crosswise between the fingers. It -is not the custom for the sexes to meet at meals; I dined with the -ladies." - -This dinner has one suggestion for our hostesses,--it was in a boat, -on a river, by torchlight. We can, however, give a better one on a -yacht at Newport, or at New London, or down on the Florida coast; but -it would be a pretty fancy to give it on our river. It is curious to -see what varieties there are in the art of entertaining; and it is -useful to remember, when in Florida, "that alligators' tails are as -good, when stewed, as chicken." - -The eating of the past included, under the Romans, the ass, the dog, -the snail, hedge-hogs, oysters, asparagus, venison, wild-boar, -sea-nettles. In England, in 1272, the hostess offered strange dishes: -mallards, herons, swans, crane, and peacock. The peacock was, of old, -a right royal bird which figured splendidly at the banquets of the -great, and this is how the mediaeval cooks dished up the dainty:-- - -"Flay off the skin, with the feathers, tail, neck, and head thereon. -Then take the skin and all the feathers and lay it on the table, -strewing thereon ground cumin; then take the peacock and roast him, -and baste him with raw yolks of eggs, and when he is roasted take him -off and let him cool awhile. Then sew him in his skin, and gild his -comb, and so send him forth for the last course." - -Our Saxon ancestors were very fond, like the Spaniards, of putting -everything into the same pot; and we read of stews that make the blood -boil. Travellers tell us of dining with the Esquimaux, on a field of -ice, when tallow candles were considered delicious, or they found -their plates loaded with liver of the walrus. They vary their dinners -by helping themselves to a lump of whale-meat, red and coarse and -rancid, but very toothsome to an Esquimau, notwithstanding. - -If they should sit down to a Greenlander's table they would find it -groaning under a dish of half-putrid whale's tail, which has been -lauded as a savoury matter, not unlike cream cheese; and the liver of -a porpoise makes the mouth water. They may finish their repast with a -slice of reindeer, or roasted rat, and drink to their host in a bumper -of train oil. - -In South America the tongue of a sea-lion is esteemed a great -delicacy. Fashion in Siam prescribes a curry of ants' eggs as -necessary to every well-ordered banquet. The eggs are not larger than -grains of pepper, and to an unaccustomed palate have no particular -flavour. Besides being curried, they are brought to table rolled in -green leaves mingled with shreds or very fine slices of pork. - -The Mexicans make a species of bread of the eggs of insects which -frequent the fresh water of the lagoons. The natives cultivate in the -lagoon of Chalco a sort of carex called _tonte_, on which the insects -deposit their eggs very freely. This carex is made into bundles and is -soon covered. The eggs are disengaged, beaten, dried, and pounded into -flour. - -Penguins' eggs, cormorants' eggs, gulls' eggs, the eggs of the -albatross, turtles' eggs are all made subservient to the table. The -mother turtle deposits her eggs, about a hundred at a time, in the dry -sand, and leaves them to be hatched by the genial sun. The Indian -tribes who live on the banks of the Orinoco procure from them a sweet -and limpid oil which is their substitute for butter. Lizards' eggs are -regarded as a _bonne bouche_ in the South Sea Islands, and the eggs of -the _guana_, a species of lizard, are much favoured by West Indians. -Alligators' eggs are eaten in the Antilles and resemble hens' eggs in -size and shape. - -We have spoken of horse-flesh as introduced at the dinner of the -Acclimatization Society, but it is hardly known that the Frenchmen -have tried to make it as common as beef. Isidore St. Helain says of -it, that it has long been regarded as of a sweetish, disagreeable -taste, very tough, and not to be eaten without difficulty; but so -many different facts are opposed to this prejudice that it is -impossible not to perceive the slightness of the foundation. The free -or wild horse is hunted as game in all parts of the world where it -exists,--Asia, Africa, and America, and perhaps even now in Europe. -The domestic horse is itself made use of for alimentary purposes in -all those countries. - -"Its flesh is relished by races the most diverse,--Negro, Mongol, -Malay, American, Caucasian. It was much esteemed until the eighth -century amongst the ancestors of some of the greatest nations of -Western Europe, who had it in general use and gave it up with regret. -Soldiers to whom it has been served out and people who have bought it -in markets, have taken it for beef; and many people buy it daily in -Paris for venison." - -During the commune many people were glad enough to get horse-flesh for -the roast. - -Locusts are eaten by many tribes of North American Indians, and there -is no reason why they should not be very good. The bushmen of Africa -rejoice in roasting spiders; maggots tickle the palates of the -Australian aborigines; and the Chinese feast on the chrysalis of a -silk-worm. - -If this is what they ate, what then did they drink? No thin potations, -no half-filled cups for the early English. Wine-bibbers and -beer-bibbers, three-bottle men they were down to one hundred years -ago. Provocatives of drink were called "shoeing horses," "whetters," -"drawers off and pullers on." - -Massinger puts forth a curious test of these provocatives:-- - - "I asked - Such an unexpected dainty bit for breakfast - As never yet I cooked; 'tis red _botargo_, - Fried frogs, potatoes marroned, _cavear_, - Carps' tongues, the pith of an English chine of beef, - Now one Italian delicate wild mushroom, - And yet a drawer on too; and if you show not - An appetite, and a strong one, I'll not say - To eat it, but devour it, without grace too, - For it will not stay a preface. I am shamed, - And all my past provocatives will be jeered at." - -Ben Jonson affords us many a glimpse of the drinking habits of all -classes in his day. - -After the Restoration, England seems to have abandoned herself to one -great saturnalia, and men drank deeply, from the king down. The novels -of Fielding and Smollett are full of the wildest debauchery and -drunken extravagance. Statesmen drank deep at their councils, ladies -drank in their boudoirs, the criminal on his way to Tyburn stopped to -drink a parting glass. Hogarth in his wonderful pictures has held the -mirror up to society to show how general was the shame, how terrible -the curse. - -In Germany the _Baierisch bier_, drunk out of _bierglaeschen_ -ornamented as they are with engraved wreaths, "_Zum Andenken_," "_Aus -Freundschaft_," and other little bits of national harmless sentiment, -has come down from the remotest antiquity, and has never failed to -provoke quiet and decorous, if sleepy hilarity. - -We are afraid that the "Dew of Ben Nevis" is not so peaceful, nor the -juice of the juniper, nor New England rum, nor the _aquadiente_ of the -Mexican, nor the _vodka_ of the Russian. All these have the most -terrible wild madness in them. To the honour of civilization, it is no -longer the fashion to drink to excess. The vice of drunkenness rarely -meets the eye of a refined woman; and let us hope that less and less -may it be the bane of society, the disgrace of the art of -entertaining. - - - - -THE SERVANT QUESTION. - - Verily - I swear, 't is better to be lowly born, - And range with humble livers in content, - Than to be perked up in a glistering grief - And wear a golden sorrow. - HENRY VIII. - - -It is impossible to do much with the art of entertaining without -servants, and where shall we get them? In a country village, not two -hundred miles from New York, I have seen well-to-do citizens going to -a little restaurant in the main street for their dinners during an -entire summer, because they could not get women to stay in their -houses as servants. They are willing to pay high wages, they are -generous livers, but such a thing as domestic service is out of the -question. If any lady comes from the city bringing two or three maids, -they are of far more interest in the village than their mistress, and -are besieged, waited upon, intrigued with, to leave their place, to -come and serve the village lady. - -What is the reason? The American farmer's daughter will not go out to -service, will not be called a servant, will not work in another -person's house as she will in her own. The Irish maid prefers the -town, and dislikes the country, where there is no Catholic church. -Such a story repeated all over the land is the story of American -service. - -We have, however, every day, ships arriving in New York harbour which -pour out on our shores the poor of all nations. The men seem to take -readily enough to any sort of work. Italians shovel snow and work on -railroads, but their wives and daughters make poor domestic servants. - -The best that we can get are the Irish who have been long in the -country. Then come the Germans, who now outnumber the Irish. French, -Swedes, Danes, Norwegians, all come in shoals. - -Of all these the French are by far the best. Of course, as cooks they -are unrivalled; as butler, waiter, footman, a well-trained French -serving-man is the very best. He is neat, economical, and respectful. -He knows his value and he is very expensive. But if you can afford -him, take him and keep him. - -French maids are admirable as seamstresses, and in all the best and -highest walks of domestic service, but they are difficult as to the -other servants. They make trouble about their food; they do not tell -the truth, as a rule. - -A good Irish nurse is the best and most tender, the most to be relied -on. Children love Irish servants; it is the best recommendation we can -give them. They are not good cooks as a rule, and are wanting in head, -management, and neatness; but they are willing; and a wise mistress -can make of them almost anything she desires. - -The Germans surpass them very much in thrift and in concentration, but -the Germans are stolid, and very far from being as gentle and willing -as the Irish. If a housekeeper gets a number of German servants in -training and thinks them perfect, she need not be astonished if some -fine morning she rises and finds them gone off to parts unknown. - -The Swedes are more reliable up to a certain point; they are never -stupid, they are rather fantastic, and very eccentric. They are also -full of poetry, and indulge in sublime longings. The Swedish language -is made up of eloquence and poetry as soft as the Italian; it has also -something of the flow and the magnificence of the Spanish. It is -freighted with picturesque and brilliant metaphor, and is richer than -ours in its expressions of gentleness, politeness, and courtesy. They -have a great talent for arguing with gentleness and courtesy, and of -protesting with politeness, and they learn our language with singular -ease. I once had a Swedish maid who argued me out of my desire to have -the dining-room swept, in better language than I could use myself. One -must, in hiring servants, take into account all these national -characteristics. The Swedes are full of talent, they can do your work -if they wish to, but ten chances to one they do not wish to. - -Gustavus Adolphus and Charles XII. were two types of Swedish -character. The Swedes of to-day, like them, are full of dignity and -lofty aspiration; they love brilliant display; they have audacious and -adventurous spirits; one can imagine them marching to victory; but all -this makes them, in this country, "too smart" to be servants. - -They are excellent cooks. A Swedish woman formerly came to my house to -cook for dinner parties, and she was equal to any French _chef_. Her -price was five dollars; she would do all my marketing for me, and -serve the dinner most perfectly,--that is, render it up to the men -waiters. I rarely had any fault to find; if I had, it was I who was in -the wrong. She came often to instruct my Irish cook; but had I -attempted any further intercourse, I felt that it would have been I -who would have had to leave the house, and not my excellent cook. They -have every qualification for service excepting this: they will not -obey,--they are captains. - -The Norwegians are very different. We must again remember that at home -they are poor, frugal, religious, and capable of all sacrifice; they -will work patiently here for seven years in order to go back to -Norway, to that poetical land, whose beauty is so unspeakable. These -girls who come from the herds, who have spent the summer on the plains -in a small hut and alone, making butter and cheese, are strong, -patient, handsome, fresh creatures, with voices as sweet as lutes, and -most obedient and good,--their thoughts ever of father and mother and -home. Would there were more of them. If they were a little less -awkward in an American house they would be perfect. - -As for the men, they are the best farm-laborers in the world. They -have a high, noble, patient courage, a very slow mind, and are fond of -argument. The Norwegian is the Scotchman of Scandinavia, as the Swede -is the Irishman. There are no better adopted citizens than the -Norwegians, but they live here only to go back to Norway when they -have made enough. Deeply religious, they are neither narrow nor -ignoble. They would be perfect servants if well trained. - -The Danes are not so simple; they are a mercantile people, and are -desperately fond of bargaining. They are also, however, most -interesting. Their taste for art is vastly more developed than that of -either the Swedes or the Norwegians. A Danish parlour-maid will -arrange the _bric-a-brac_ and stand and look at it. To go higher in -their home history, they are making great painters. As servants they -are hardly known enough amongst us to be criticised; those I have seen -have been neat, faithful, and far more obedient than their cleverer -Swedish sisters. - -Could I have my choice for servants about a country house they should -be Norwegians, in a city house, French. - -In Chicago, the ladies speak highly of the German servants, if they do -not happen to be Nihilists, which is a dreadful possibility. At the -South they still have the negro, most excellent when good, most -objectionable when bad. Certainly freedom has not improved him as to -manners, and a coloured coachman in Washington can be far more -disagreeable than an Irishman, or a French cabby during the -Exposition, which is saying a great deal. - -The excellence, the superiority, the respectful manners of English -servants at home has induced many ladies to bring over parlour maids, -nurses, cooks, from England, with, however, but small success. I need -but copy the following from the "London Queen," to show how different -is the way of speaking of a servant, and to a servant in London from -that which obtains in New York. It is _verbatim_:-- - -"The servants should rise at six-thirty, and the cook a little -earlier; she then lights the kitchen fire, opens the house, sweeps the -hall, cleans the steps, prepares upstairs and downstairs breakfast. -Meantime the house parlourmaid does the dining-room, takes up hot -water to bedrooms, lays the table, and so forth, while the housemaid -dusts the day nursery and takes up the children's breakfast. Supposing -the family breakfast is not wanted before eight-thirty, that meal -should be taken, in both kitchen and nursery, before eight o'clock. -As soon as this is over the cook must tidy her kitchen, look over her -stores, contents of pantry, etc., and be ready by nine-thirty to take -her orders for the day. She will answer the kitchen bell at all times, -and perhaps the front door in the morning, and will be answerable -besides for ordinary kitchen work, for the hall, kitchen stairs, all -the basement, and according to arrangement possibly the dining-room. -She must have fixed days for doing the above work, cleaning tins, etc. -The cook also clears away the breakfast. As soon as the housemaid has -taken up the family breakfast, she, the housemaid, must begin the -bedrooms, where the second scullery-maid may help her as soon as she -has done helping the cook. The house parlour-maid will be responsible -for the drawing-room and sitting-room and all the bedrooms, also -stairs and landing, having regular days for cleaning out one of each -weekly, being helped by the second scullery-maid. She should be -dressed in time for lunch, wait on it, and clear away. She will answer -the front door in the afternoon, take up five o'clock tea, lay the -table and wait at dinner. The scullery maid must clear the kitchen -meals and help in all the washing up, take up nursery tea, help the -cook prepare late dinner, carry up the dishes for late dinner, clear -and wash up kitchen supper. The nurse has her dinner in the kitchen. -Servants' meals should be breakfast, before the family, dinner -directly after upstairs lunch, tea at five, supper at nine. They -should go to bed regularly at ten o'clock. Now as to their fare. For -breakfast a little bacon or an egg, or some smoked fish; for dinner, -meat, vegetables, potatoes, and pudding. If a joint has been sent up -for lunch, it is usual for it to go down to the servants' table. - -"Allow one pint and a half of beer to each servant who asks for it, or -one bottle. Tea, butter, and sugar are given out to them. The weekly -bills for the servants shall be about two dollars and a half." - -The neatness of all this careful housekeeping would be delightful if -it could be carried out with us, or if the servant would accept it. -But imagine a New York mistress achieving it! The independent voter -would revolt, his wife would never accept it. English servants lose -all their good manners when they come over here, and do not appear at -all as they do in London. - -American servants are always expected to eat what goes down from the -master's table, and there is no such thing as making one servant wait -upon another in our free and independent country. There are households -in America where many servants are kept in order by a very clever -mistress, but it is rarely an order which lasts for long. It is a -vexed question, and the freedom with which we take a servant, without -knowing much of her character, must explain a great deal of it. -Foreign servants find out soon their legal rights, and their -importance. Here where labour is scarce, it is not so easy to get a -good footman, parlour maid, or cook; the great variety and antipathy -of race comes in. The Irishman will not work on a railroad with the -Italian, and we all know the history of the "Heathen Chinee." That is -repeated in every household. - -Mr. Winans, in Scotland, hires a place which reaches from the North -Sea to the Atlantic; he spends two hundred thousand dollars a year on -it. He has perhaps three hundred servants, every one of them perfect. -Imagine his having such a place here! How many good servants could he -find; how long would they stay? How long does a French _chef_, at ten -thousand dollars a year, stay? Only one year. He prefers to return to -France. - -Indeed, French servants, poorly paid and very poorly fed at home, are -the hardest to keep in this country; they all wish to go back. It is a -curious fact that they grow impertinent and do not seem to enjoy the -life. They go back to Europe, and resume their good manners as if -nothing had happened. It must be in the air. - -It is, however, possible for a lady to get good servants and to keep -them for a while, if she has great executive ability and a natural -leadership; but the whole question is one which has not yet been at -all mastered. - -There is no "hook and eye" between the ship loaded down with those who -want work and those who want work done. The great lack of respect in -the manners of servants in hotels is especially noticeable to one -returning from Europe. A woman, a sort of care-taker on a third-story -floor, will sing while a lady is talking to her, not because she -wishes to sing at all, but to establish her independence. In Europe -she would say, "Yes, my Lady," or "No, my Lady" when spoken to. - -It is to be feared that the Declaration of Independence is between us -and good service. We must be content if we find one or two amiable -Irish, or old negroes, who will serve us because of the love they bear -us, and for our children's sake, whom they love as if they were their -very own. - -This is, however, but taking the seamy side, and the humbler side. -Many opulent people in America employ thirty servants, and their house -goes on with much of European elegance. It is not unusual in a fine -New York house to find a butler and four men in the dining-room; a -_chef_ and his assistants in the kitchen; a head groom and his men in -the stables; a coachman, who is a very important functionary; and -three women in the nursery besides the nursery governess, who acts as -the amanuensis of the lady; the lady's maid, whose sole duty is to -wait on her lady, and perhaps her young lady; a parlour maid or two; -and two chambermaids, a laundress and her assistants. - -Of course the men in such a vast establishment do not sleep in the -house, perhaps with one or two exceptions; the valet and the head -footman may be kept at home, as they may be needed in the night, for -errands, etc. But our American houses are not built to accommodate so -many. One lady, the head of such an establishment, said that she had -"never seen her laundress." A different staircase led to the servants' -room; her maid did all the interviewing with this important personage. - -If a lady can find a competent housekeeper to direct this large -household, it is all very well, but that is yet almost impossible, and -the life of a fashionable woman in New York, who is the head of such a -house, is apt to be slavery. The housekeeper and the butler are seldom -friends, therefore the hostess has to reconcile these two conflicting -powers before she can give a dinner; the head footman walks off -disgusted and leaves a vacant place, etc. - -The households of men of foreign birth, who understand dealing with -different nationalities, are apt to get on very well with thirty -servants; doubtless such men import their own servants. - -In a household where one man alone is kept, he is expected to open the -front door and to do all the work of the dining-room, and must have an -assistant in the pantry. The cook, if a woman, generally demands and -needs one; if a man, he demands two, for a _chef_ will not do any of -the menial work of cookery. He is a pampered official. - -In England, the housekeeper engages the servants and supervises them. -She has charge of the stores and the house linen, and in general is -responsible for the economical and exact management of all household -details, and for the comfort of guests and the family. She is expected -to see that her employers are not cheated, and this in our country -makes her unpopular. A bad housekeeper is worse than none, as of -course her powers of stealing are endless. - -The butler is responsible for the silver and wine. He must be absolute -over the footman. It is he who directs the carving and passing of -dishes, and then stands behind the chair of his mistress. All the -men-servants must be clean shaven; none are permitted to wear a -mustache, that being the privilege of the gentlemen. - -A lady's maid is not expected to do her own washing, or make her own -bed in Europe; but in this country, being required to do all that, and -to eat with the other servants, she is apt to complain. A French maid -always complains of the table. She must dress hair, understand -dress-making, and clear starching, be a good packer, and always at -hand to dress her lady and to sit up for her when she returns from -parties. Her wages are very high and she is apt to become a tyrant. - -It is very difficult to define for an American household the duties of -servants, which are so well defined in England and on the continent. -Every lady has her own individual ideas on this subject, and servants -have _their_ individual ideas, which they do not have in Europe. I -heard an opulent gentleman who kept four men-servants in his house, -and three in his stable, complain one snowy winter that he had not one -who would shovel snow from his steps, each objecting that it was not -his business; so he wrote a note to a friendly black man, who came -around, and rendered it possible for the master of the house to go -down to business. This was an extreme case, but it illustrates one of -the phases of our curious civilization. - -The butler is the important person, and it will be well for the lady -to hold him responsible; he should see to it that the footmen are neat -and clean. Most servants in American houses wear black dress-coats, -and white cravats, but some of our very rich men have now all their -flunkies in livery, a sort of cut-away dress-coat, a waistcoat of -another colour, small clothes, long stockings, and low shoes. Powdered -footmen have not yet appeared. - -If we were in England we should say that the head footman is to attend -the door, and in houses where much visiting goes on he could hardly do -anything more. Ladies, however, simplify this process by keeping a -"buttons," a small boy, who has, as Dickens says, "broken out in an -eruption of buttons" on his jacket, who sits the livelong day the -slave of the bell. - -The second man seems to do all the work, such as scrubbing silver, -sweeping, arranging the fireplaces, and washing dishes; and what the -third man does, except to black boots, I have never been able to -discover. I think he serves as valet to the gentlemen and the growing -boys, runs with notes, and is "Jeames Yellowplush" generally. I was -once taken over her vast establishment by an English countess, who -was most kind in explaining to me her domestic arrangements; but I did -not think she knew herself what that third man did. I noticed that -there were always several footmen waiting at dinner. - - "They also serve who only stand and wait." - -One thing I do remember in the housekeeper's room. There sat a very -grand dame carving, and giving the servants their dinner. She rose and -stood while my lady spoke to her, but at a wave of the hand from the -countess all the others remained seated. The butler was at the other -end of the table looking very sheepish. The dinner was a boiled leg of -mutton, and some sort of meat pie, and a huge Yorkshire pudding,--no -vegetables but potatoes; pitchers of ale, and bread and cheese, -finished this meal. The third footman, I remember, brought in -afternoon tea; perhaps he filled that place which is described in one -of Miss Mulock's novels:-- - -"Dolly was hired as an off maid, to do everything which the other -servants would not do." - -The etiquette of the stable servants was also explained to me in -England. The coachman is as powerful a person in the equine realm as -is the butler in the house. The head groom and his assistants always -raise their finger to their hats when spoken to by master, or -mistress, or the younger members of the family, or visitors, and in -the case of royalty all stand with hats off, the coachman on the box -slightly raising his, until the Prince of Wales, or his peers, are -seated. - -In some houses I was told that the upper servants had their meals -prepared by a kitchen maid, and that they had a different table from -the scullery maids. - -The nursery governess was a person to be pitied; she was an educated -girl, still the servant of the head nurse. She passed her entire life -with the children, yet ate by herself, unless perhaps with the very -young children. The head governess ate luncheon with the family, and -came in to the parlour with the young ladies in the evening. Generally -this personage was expected to sing and play for the amusement of the -company. Now, imagine a set of servants thus trained, brought to -America. The men soon learn that their vote is as good as the -master's, and if they are Irishmen it is a great deal better. They -soon cease to be respectful. This is the first break in the chain. A -man, a Senator, was asked out to dinner in Albany; the lady of the -house said, "I have a great respect for Senator ----; he used to wait -on this table." - -That is a glorious thing for the flag, for the United States, but -there is a missing link in the golden chain of household order. It is -a difficult task to produce here the harmony of an English household. -Our service at home is like our diplomatic service; we have no trained -diplomats, no gradation of service, but in the case of our foreign -ministers, they have risen to be the best in the world. We have plenty -of talent at top; it is the root of the tree which puzzles us. - -We may make up our minds that no longer will the American girl go out -to service. It is a thousand pities that she will not. It is not -ignoble to do household work well. The chatelaines of the Middle Ages -cooked and served the meals with their own fair hands. Training-schools -are greatly needed; we should follow the nurses' training-school. - -Our dinner-tables in America are generally long and narrow, fitted to -the shape of the dining-room. Once I saw in England, in a great -house, a table so narrow that one could almost have shaken hands with -one's opposite neighbour. The ornaments were high, slender vases -filled with grasses and orchids, far above our heads. One or two -matchless ornaments of Dresden, the gifts of monarchs, alone -ornamented the table. This was a very sociable dinner-table and rather -pleasing. Then came the round table, so vast that the footmen must -have mounted up on it to place the centre piece, like poor distraught -Lady Caroline Lamb, whose husband came in to find her walking up and -down the table, telling the butler to "produce pyramidal effects." -There is also the fine broad parallelogram, suited to a baronial hall; -and this is copied in our best country houses. As no conversation of a -confidential character is ever allowed at an English table until all -the servants have left the room, so it is not considered good-breeding -to allow a servant to talk to the mistress or the young ladies of what -she hears in the servants' hall. The gossip of couriers and maids at a -foreign watering-place reaches American ears, and unluckily gets into -American newspapers sometimes. It is a wise precaution on the part of -the English never to listen to this. As we have conquered everything -else in America, perhaps we shall conquer the servant question, to the -advantage of both parties. We should try to keep our servants a longer -time with us. - -There are some houses where the law of change goes on forever, and -there are some where the domestic machine runs without friction. The -hostess may be a person with a talent for governing, and may be -inspired with a sixth sense. If she is she can make her composite -family respectful, helpful, and happy; but it must be confessed that -it is as yet a vexed question, one which gives us trouble and will -give us more. Those people are the happiest who can get on with three -or four servants, and very many families live well and elegantly with -this number, while more live well with two. - -To mark the difference in feeling as between those who employ and -those who serve, one little anecdote may apply. At a watering-place in -Europe I once met an English family, of the middle class. The lady -said to her maid, "Bromley, your master wishes you to be in at nine -o'clock this evening." - -Bromley said, "Yes, my lady." - -An American lady stood near with her maid, who flushed deeply. - -"What is the matter, Jane?" asked her lady. - -"I never could stand having any one called my master," said the -American. - -This intimate nerve of self-love, this egotism, this false idea of -independence affects women more than men, and in a country where both -can go from the humblest position to the highest, it produces a -"glistering grief." The difficulty of getting good servants prevents -many families from keeping house. It brings on us the foreign reproach -that we live in hotels and boarding-houses. It is at this moment the -great unsolved American Question. What shall we do with it? - - - - -SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS. - - "Last night I weighed, quite wearied out, - The question that perplexes still; - And that sad spirit we call doubt - Made the good naught beside the ill. - - "This morning, when with rested mind, - I try again the selfsame theme, - The whole is altered, and I find - The balance turned, the good supreme." - - -What amateur cook has not had these moments of depression and -exaltation as she has weighed the flour and sugar, stoned the raisins, -and mixed the cake, or, even worse in her young novitiate, has -attempted to make a soup and has begun with the formula which so often -turns out badly:-- - -"Take a shin of beef and put it in a pot with three dozen carrots, a -dozen onions, two dozen pieces of celery, twelve turnips, a fowl, and -two partridges. It must simmer six hours, etc." Yes, and last week and -the week before her husband said, "it was miserable." How willingly -would she allow the claim of that glorious old coxcomb, Louis Eustache -Ude, who had been cook to two French kings and never forgave the world -for not permitting him to call himself an artist. - -"Scrapers of catgut," he says, "call themselves artists, and fellows -who jump like a kangaroo claim the title; yet the man who has under -his sole direction the great feasts given by the nobility of England -to the allied sovereigns, and who superintended the grand banquet at -Crockford's on the occasion of the coronation of Victoria, was denied -the title prodigally showered on singers, dancers, and comedians, -whose only quality, not requiring the microscope to discern, is -vanity." - -Ude was the most eccentric of cooks. He was _maitre d'hotel_ to the -Duke of York, who delighted in his anecdotes and mimicry. In his book, -which he claims is the only work which gives due dignity to the great -art, he says: "The chief fault in all great peoples' cooks is that -they are too profuse in their preparations. Suppers are after all only -ridiculous proofs of the extravagance and bad taste of the givers." He -mentions great wastes which have seared his already seared conscience -thus: - -"I have known balls where the next day, in spite of the pillage of a -pack of footmen, which was enormous, I have seen thirty hams, one -hundred and fifty to two hundred carved fowls, and forty or fifty -tongues given away. Jellies melt on all the tables; pastries, patties, -aspics, and lobster salads are heaped up in the kitchen and strewed -about in the passages; and all this an utter waste, for not even the -footmen would eat this; they do not consider it a legitimate repast to -dine off the remnants of a last night's feast. Footmen are like cats; -they only like what they steal, but are indifferent to what is given -them." - -This was written by the cook of the bankrupt Duke of York, noted for -his extravagance; but how well it would apply to-day to the banquet of -many a _nouveau riche_, to how many a hotel, to how much of our -American housekeeping. Ude was a poet and an enthusiast. Colonel Damer -met him walking up and down at Crockford's in a great rage, and asked -what was the matter. "Matter! _Ma foi!_" answered he; "you saw that -man just gone out? Well he ordered red mullet for his dinner. I made -him a delicious little sauce with my own hand. The mullet was marked -on the carte two shillings. I added sixpence for the sauce. He refuses -to pay sixpence for the sauce. The imbecile! He seems to think red -mullets come out of the sea with my sauce in their pockets." - -Careme, one of the greatest of French cooks, became eminent by -inventing a sauce for fast-days. He then devoted several years to the -science of roasting in all its branches. He studied design and -elegance under Robert Laine. His career was one of victory after -victory. He nurtured the Emperor Alexander, kept alive Talleyrand -through "that long disease, his life," fostered Lord Londonderry, and -delighted the Princess Belgratine. A salary of a thousand pounds a -year induced him to become _chef_ to the Regent; but he left Carlton -House, he would return to France. The Regent was inconsolable, but -Careme was implacable. "No," said the true patriot, "my soul is -French, and I can only exist in France." Careme, therefore, overcome -by his feelings, accepted an unprecedented salary from Baron -Rothschild and settled in Paris. - -Lady Morgan, dining at the Baron's villa in 1830, has left us a sketch -of a dinner by Careme which is so well done that, although I have -already alluded to it, I will copy _verbatim_: "It was a very sultry -evening, but the Baron's dining-room stood apart from the house and -was shaded by orange trees. In the oblong pavilion of Grecian marble -refreshed by fountains, no gold or silver heated or dazzled the eye, -but porcelain beyond the price of all precious metals. There was no -high-spiced sauce in the dinner, no dark-brown gravy, no flavour of -cayenne and allspice, no tincture of catsup and walnut pickle, no -visible agency of those vulgar elements of cooking of the good old -times, fire and water. Distillations of the most delicate viands had -been extracted in silver, with chemical precision. Every meat -presented its own aroma,"--it was not cooked in a gas stove,--"every -vegetable its own shade of verdure. The mayonnaise was fixed in ice, -like Ninon's description of Sevigne's heart, '_une citronille frite a -la neige_.' The tempered chill of the _plombiere_ which held the place -of the eternal _fondus_ and _soufflets_ of our English tables, -anticipated and broke the stronger shock of the exquisite avalanche, -which, with the hue and odour of fresh-gathered nectarines, satisfied -every sense and dissipated every coarser flavour. With less genius -than went to the composition of that dinner, men have written epic -poems." - -Comparing Careme with the great Beauvilliers, the greatest restaurant -cook in Paris from 1782 to 1815, a great authority in the matter says: -"There was more _aplomb_ in the touch of Beauvilliers, more curious -felicity in Careme's. Beauvilliers was great in an _entree_, Careme -sublime in an _entremet_; we should put Beauvilliers against the world -for a _roti_, but should wish Careme to prepare the sauce were we -under the necessity of eating an elephant or our great grandfather." - -Vatel was the great Conde's cook who killed himself because the turbot -did not arrive. Madame de Sevigne relates the event with her usual -clearness. Louis XIV. had long promised a visit to the great Conde at -Chantilly, the very estate which the Duc d'Aumale has so recently -given back to France, but postponed it from time to time fearing to -cause Conde trouble by the sudden influx of a gay and numerous -retinue. The old chateau had become a trifle dull and a trifle mouldy, -but it got itself brushed up. Vatel was cook, and his first -mortification was that the roast was wanting at several tables. It -seemed to him that his great master the captain would be dishonoured, -but the king had brought a larger retinue than he had promised. "He -had thought of nothing but to make this visit a great success." -Gourville, one of the prince's household, finding Vatel so excited, -asked the prince to reassure him, which he did very kindly, telling -him that the king was delighted with his supper. But Vatel mournfully -answered: "Monseigneur, your kindness overpowers me, but the roast was -wanting at two tables." The next morning he arose at five to -superintend the king's dinner. The purveyor of fish was at the door -with only two baskets. "And is this all?" asked Vatel. "Yes," said the -sleepy man. Vatel waited at the gates an hour; no more fish. Two or -three hundred guests, and only two packages. He whispered to himself, -"The joke in Paris will be that Vatel tried to save the prince the -price of two red mullets a month." His hand fell on his rapier hilt, -he rushed up-stairs, fell on the blade; as he expired the cart loaded -with turbot came into the yard. Voila! - -Times have changed. Cooks now prefer living on their masters to dying -for them. - -The Prince de Loubise, inventor of a sauce the discovery of which has -made him more glorious than twenty victories, asked his cook to draw -him up a bill of fare, a sort of rough estimate for a supper. -Bertrand's first estimate was fifty hams. "What, Bertrand! Are you -going to feast the whole army of the Rhine? Your brains are surely -turning." Bertrand was blandly contemptuous. "My brains are surely -turning? No, Monseigneur, only one ham will appear on the table, but -the rest are indispensable for my _espagnoles_, my garnishing." - -"Bertrand, you are plundering me," stormed the prince. "This article -shall not pass." The blood of the cook was up. "My lord," said he, -sternly, "you do not understand the resources of our art. Give the -word and I will so melt down these hams that they will go into a -little glass bottle no bigger than my thumb." The prince was abashed -by the genius of the spit, and the fifty hams were purchased. - -The Duke of Wellington liked a good dinner, and employed an artist -named Felix. Lord Seaforth, finding Felix too expensive, allowed him -to go to the Iron Duke, but Felix came back with tears in his eyes. - -"What is the matter," said Lord Seaforth; "has the Duke turned rusty?" - -"No, no, my lord! but I serve him a dinner which would make -Francatelli or Ude die of envy, and he say nothing. I go to the -country and leave him to try a dinner cooked by a stupid, dirty -cook-maid, and he say nothing; that is what hurt my feelings." - -Felix lived on approbation; he would have been capable of dying like -Vatel. - -Going last winter to see _le Bourgeoise Gentilhomme_ at the Comedie -Francaise, I was struck with the novelty of the dinner served by this -hero of Moliere's who is so anxious to get rid of his money. All the -dishes were brought in by little fellows dressed as cooks, who danced -to the minuet. - -In a later faithful chronicle I learn that a certain marquis of the -days of Louis XVI. invented a musical spit which caused all the -snowy-garbed cooks to move in rhythmical steps. All was melody and -order. "The fish simmered in six-eight time, the ponderous roasts -circled gravely, the stews blended their essences to solemn anthems. -The ears were gratified as the nose was regaled; this was an idea -worthy of Apecius." - -So Moliere, true to the spirit of his time, paid this compliment to -the Marquis. - -Bechamel was cook to Louis XIV., and invented a famous sauce. - -Durand, who was cook to the great Napoleon, has left a curious record -of his tempestuous eating. Francatelli succeeded Ude in England, was -the _chef_ at Chesterfield House, at Lord Kinnaird's, and at the -Melton Club. He held the post of _maitre d'hotel_ for a while but was -dismissed by a cabal. - -The gay writer from whose pages we have gathered these desultory facts -winds up with an advice to all who keep French cooks. "Make your -_chef_ your friend. Take care of him. Watch over the health of this -man of genius. Send for the physician when he is ill." - -Imagine the descent from these poets to the good plain cook,--you can -depend upon the truth of this description,--with a six weeks' -reference from her last place. Imagine the greasy soups, the mutton -cutlets hard as a board, the few hard green peas, the soggy potatoes. -How awful the recollections of one who came in "a week on trial!" -Whose trial? Those who had to eat her food. It is bad to be without a -cook, but ten times worse to have a bad one. - -But if Louis Eustache Ude, the cook _par excellence_ of all this -little study, lamented over the waste in great kitchens, how much more -should he revolt at that wholesale destruction of food which might go -to feed the hungry, nourish and sustain the sick, and perhaps save -many a child's life. What should be done with the broken meats of a -great household? The cook is too apt to toss all into a tub or basket, -to swell her own iniquitous profits. The half-tongues, ends of ham, -roast beef, chicken-legs, the real honest relics of a generous kitchen -would feed four or five poor families a week. What gifts of mercy to -hospitals would be the half of a form of jelly, the pudding, the blanc -mange, which are thrown away by the careless! - -In France the Little Sisters of the Poor go about with clean dishes -and clean baskets, to collect these morsels which fall from the rich -man's table. It is a worthy custom. - -While studying the names of these great men like Ude and Careme, Vatel -and Francatelli, what shades of dead _patissiers_, spirits of extinct -_confiseurs_, rise around us in savoury streams and revive for us the -past of gastronomic pleasure! Many a Frenchman will tell you of the -iced meringues of the Palais Royal and the _salades de fraises au -marasquin_ of the Grand Seize as if they were things of the past. The -French, gayer and lighter handed at the moulding of pastry, are apt to -exceed all nations in this delicate, delicious _entremet_. The _vol au -vent de volaille_, or chicken pie, with its delicate filling of -chicken, mushroom, truffles, and its enveloping pastry, is never -better than at the Grand Hotel at Aix les Bains, where one finds the -perfection of good eating. "Aix les Bains," says a resident physician, -"lies half-way between Paris and Rome, with its famous curative baths -to correct the good dinners of the one, and the good wines of the -other." Aix adds a temptation of its own. - -The French have ever been fond of the playthings of the kitchen,--the -tarts, custards, the frothy nothings which are fashioned out of the -evanescent union of whipped cream and spun sugar. Their politeness, -their brag, their accomplishments, their love of the external, all -lead to such dainties. It was observed even so long ago as 1815, when -the allies were in Paris, that the fifteen thousand _pates_ which -Madame Felix sold daily in the _Passage des Panoramas_ were beginning -to affect the foreign bayonets; and no doubt the German invasion may -have been checked by the same dulcet influence. - -There is romance and history even about pastry. The _baba_, a species -of savoury biscuit coloured with saffron, was introduced into France -by Stanislaus, the first king of Poland, when that unlucky country was -alternately the scourge and the victim of Russia. The dish was perhaps -oriental in origin. It is made with _brioche_ paste, mixed with -madeira, currants, raisins, and potted cream. - -French jellies are rather monotonous as to flavour, but they look very -handsome on a supper-table. A _macedoine_ is a delicious variety of -dainty, and worthy of the French nation. It is wine jelly frozen in a -mould with grapes, strawberries, green-gages, cherries, apricots, or -pineapple, or more economically with slices of pears and apples boiled -in syrup coloured with carmine, saffron, or cochineal, the flavour -aided by angelica or brandied cherries. An invention of Ude and one -which we could copy here is jelly _au miroton de peche_:-- - - Get half a dozen peaches, peel them carefully and boil them, - with their kernels, a short time in a fine syrup, squeeze six - lemons into it, and pass it through a bag. Add some clarified - isinglass and put some of it into a mould in ice; then fill up - with the jelly and peaches alternately and freeze it. - -Fruit cheeses are very pleasant, rich conserves for dessert. They can -be made with apricots, strawberries, pineapple, peaches, or -gooseberries. The fruit is powdered with sugar and rubbed through a -colander; then melted isinglass and thick cream is added, whipped over -ice and put into the mould. - -The French prepare the most ornamental ices, both water and cream, but -they do not equal in richness or flavour those made in New York. - -Pancakes and fritters, although English dishes, are very popular in -France and very good. Apple fritters with sherry wine and sugar are -very comforting things. The French name is _beignet de pomme_. -Thackeray immortalizes them thus:-- - - "Mid fritters and lollypops though we may roam, - On the whole there is nothing like _beignet de pomme_. - Of flour half a pound with a glass of milk share, - A half-pound of butter the mixture will bear. - _Pomme! Pomme! Beignet de pomme!_ - Of _beignets_ there's none like the _beignet de pomme_! - - "A _beignet de pomme_ you may work at in vain - If you stir not the mixture again and again. - Some beer just to thin it may into it fall, - Stir up that with three whites of eggs added to all. - _Pomme! Pomme! Beignet de pomme!_ - Of _beignets_ there's nothing like _beignet de pomme_! - - "Six apples when peeled you must carefully slice, - And cut out the cores if you'll take my advice; - Then dip them in butter and fry till they foam, - And you'll have in six minutes your _beignet de pomme_. - _Pomme! Pomme! Beignet de pomme!_ - Of _beignets_ there's nothing like _beignet de pomme_!" - -In the _Almanach de Gourmands_ there appeared a philosophical treatise -on pastry and pastry cooks, probably by the learned Giedeaud de la -Reyniere himself. Pastry, he says, is to cooking what rhetorical -metaphors are to oratory,--life and ornament. A speech without -metaphors, a dinner without pastry, are alike insipid; but, in like -manner, as few people are eloquent, so few can make perfect pastry. -Good pastry-cooks are as rare as good orators. - -This writer recommends the art of the rolling-pin to beautiful women -as being at once an occupation, a pleasure, and a sure way of -recovering embonpoint and freshness. He says: "This is an art which -will chase _ennui_ from the saddest. It offers varied amusement and -sweet and salutary exercise for the whole body; it restores appetite, -strength, and gayety; it gathers around us friends; it tends to -advance an art known from the most remote antiquity. Woman! lovely and -charming woman, leave the sofas where _ennui_ and hypochondria prey -upon the springtime of your life, unite in the varied moulds sugar, -jasmine, and roses, and form those delicacies that will be more -precious than gold when made by hands so dear to us." What woman could -refuse to make a pudding and any number of pies after that? - -There seems to be nothing left to eat after all this perilous sweet -stuff but a devilled biscuit at ten o'clock. - - "'A well devilled biscuit!' said Jenkins, enchanted, - 'I'll have after dinner,--the thought is divine!' - The biscuit was brought and he now only wanted, - To fully enjoy it, a glass of good wine. - He flew to the pepper and sat down before it, - And at peppering the well-buttered biscuit he went; - Then some cheese in a paste mixed with mustard spread o'er it, - And down to the kitchen the devil was sent. - - "'Oh, how!' said the cook, 'can I thus think of grilling? - When common the pepper, the whole will be flat; - But here's the cayenne, if my master be willing - I'll make if he pleases a devil with that.' - So the footman ran up with the cook's observation - To Jenkins, who gave him a terrible look; - 'Oh, go to the devil!'--forgetting his station-- - Was the answer that Jenkins sent down to the cook." - -A slice of _pate de foie gras_, olives stuffed with anchovy, broiled -bones, anchovy on toast, Welsh rarebit, devilled biscuit, devilled -turkey-legs, devilled kidneys, _caviare_, devilled crabs, soft-shell -crabs, shrimp salad, sardines on toast, broiled sausages, etc., are -amongst the many appetizers which _gourmets_ seek at ten or twelve -o'clock, to take the taste of the sweets out of their mouths, and to -prepare the pampered palate perhaps for punch, whiskey, or brandy and -soda. - - - - -THE FURNISHING OF A COUNTRY HOUSE. - - -The hostess should, in furnishing her house, provide a number of -bath-tubs. The tin ones, shaped like a hat, are very convenient, as -are also india-rubber portable baths. If there is not a bath-room -belonging to every room, this will enable an Englishman to take his -tub as cold as he pleases, or allow the American to take the warmer -sponge bath which Americans generally prefer. - -The house should also be well supplied with lunch-baskets for picnics -and for the railway journey. These can be had for a small sum, and are -well fitted up with drinking-cups, knives, forks, spoons, corkscrews, -sandwich-boxes, etc. These and a great supply of unbreakable cups for -the lawn-tennis ground are very useful. - -There should be also any number of painted tin pails, and small -pitchers to carry hot water; several services of plain tea things, and -Japanese waiters, on which to send tea to the bedrooms; and in every -room should be placed a table, thoroughly furnished with -writing-materials, and with all the conveniences for writing and -sealing a letter. - -Shakspeare's bequest to his wife of his second-best bed has passed as -a bit of post-mortem ungallantry, which has dimmed his fame as a model -husband; but to-day that second-best bed would be a very handsome -bequest, not only because it was Shakspeare's, but because it was -doubtless a "tester," for which there is a craze. All the old -four-posters, which our grandmothers sent to the garret, are on their -way back again to the model bedroom. With all our rage for ventilation -and fresh air, we no longer fear the bed curtains which a few years -ago were supposed to foster disease and death; because the model -bedroom can now be furnished with a ventilator for admitting the -fresh, and one permitting the egress of the foul air. Each gas bracket -is provided with a pipe placed above it, which pierces the wall and -through which the product of combustion is carried out of the house. -This is a late sanitary improvement in London, and is being introduced -in New York. - -As for the bed curtains, they are hung on rods with brass rings, no -canopy on top, so that the curtains can be shaken and dusted freely. -This is a great improvement on the old upholstered top, which recalls -Dickens's description of Mrs. Todger's boarding-house, where at the -top of the stairs "the odour of many generations of dinners had -gathered and had never been dispelled." In like manner the unpleasant -feeling that perhaps whole generations of sleepers had breathed into -the same upholstery overhead, used to haunt the wakeful, in old -English inns, to the murdering of sleep. - -There is a growing admiration, unfortunately, for tufted bedsteads. -They are in the long run neither clean nor wholesome, and not easily -kept free from vermin; but they are undeniably handsome, and recall -the imperial beds of state apartments, where kings and queens are -supposed to seek that repose which comes so unwillingly to them, but -so readily to the plough-boy. These upholstered, tufted, satin-covered -bedsteads should be fitted with a canopy, and from this should hang a -baldachin and side curtains. Certain very beautiful specimens of this -regal arrangement, bought in Italy, are in the Vanderbilt palaces in -New York. Opulent purchasers can get copies at the great -furnishing-houses, but it is becoming difficult to get the real -antiques. Travellers in Brittany find the most wonderful carved -bedsteads built into the wall, and are always buying them of the -astonished fisher-folk, who have no idea how valuable is their -smoke-stained, carved oak. - -But as to the making up of the bed. There are nowadays cleanly springs -and hair mattresses, in place of the old feather-beds; and as to stiff -white bedcovers, pillowslips and shams, false sheets and valenciennes -trimmings, monogrammed and ruffled fineries, there is a truce. They -were so slippery, so troublesome, and so false withal, that the beds -that have known them shall know them no more forever. They had always -to be unpinned and unhooked before the sleeper could enter his bed; -and they were the torment of the housemaid. They entailed a degree of -washing and ironing which was endless, and yet many a young -housekeeper thought them indispensable. That idea has gone out -completely. The bed now is made up with its fresh linen sheets, its -clean blankets and its Marseilles quilt, with square or long pillow as -the sleeper fancies, with bolster in plain linen sheath. Then over the -whole is thrown a light lace cover lined with Liberty silk. This may -be as expensive or as cheap as the owner pleases. Or the spreads may -be of satin covered with Chinese embroidery, Turkish Smyrniote, or -other rare things, or of the patchwork or decorative art designs now -so fashionable. One light and easily aired drapery succeeds the four -or five pieces of unmanageable linen. If the bed is a tester and the -curtains of silk or chintz, the bed-covering should match in tint. In -a very pretty bedroom the walls should be covered with chintz or silk. - -The modern highly glazed tile paper for walls and ceiling is an -admirable covering, as it refuses to harbour dirt, and the housemaid's -brush can keep it sweet and clean. Wall papers are so pretty and so -exquisite in design that it seems hardly necessary to do more than -mention them. Let us hope the exasperating old rectangular patterns, -which have confused so many weary brains and haunted so many a -feverish pillow, are gone forever. - -The floors should be of plain painted wood, varnished, than which -nothing can be cleaner; or perhaps of polished or oiled wood of the -natural colour, with parquetried borders. If this is impossible cover -with dark-stained mattings, which are as clean and healthful as -possible. These may remain down all winter, and rugs may be laid over -them at the fireplace and near the bed, sofa, etc. Readily lifted and -shaken, rugs have all the comfort of carpets, and none of their -disadvantages. - -Much is said of the unhealthfulness of gas in bedrooms, but if it does -not escape, it is not unhealthful. The prettiest illumination is by -candles in the charming new candlesticks in tin and brass, which are -as nice as Roman lamps. - -On the old bedsteads of Cromwell's time we find a shelf running across -the head of the bed, just above the sleeper's head,--placed there for -the posset cup. This is now utilized for a safety lamp, for those who -indulge in the pernicious practice of reading in bed; but it is even -better used as a receptacle for the book, the letter-case, the many -little things which an invalid may need, and it saves calling a -nurse. - -All paint used in a model bedroom should be free from poison. The -fireplace should be tiled, and the windows made with a deep beading on -the sill. This is a piece of wood like the rest of the frame, which -comes up two or three inches in front of the lower part of the window. -The object of this is to admit of the lower sash being raised without -causing a draught. The room is thus ventilated by the air which -filters through the slight aperture between the upper and lower -sashes. Above all things have an open fireplace in the bedroom. -Abolish stoves from that sacred precinct. Use wood for fuel if -possible; if not, the softest of cannel-coal. - -Have brass rods placed, on which to hang portieres in winter. -Portieres and curtains may be cheaply made of ingrain carpet -embroidered; or of Turkish or Indian stuffs; splendid Delhi pulgaries, -a mass of gold silk embroidered, with bits of looking-glass worked in; -of velvet; camel's-hair shawls; satin, chintz, or cretonne. Costly thy -portieres as thy purse can buy; nothing is so pretty and so -ornamental. - -Glazed chintzes may be hung at the windows, without lining, as the -light shines through the flowers, making a good effect. Chenille -curtains of soft rich colours are appropriate for the modern bedroom. -Madras muslin curtains will do for the windows, but are not heavy -enough for portieres. - -There are hangings made of willow bamboo, which can be looped back, or -left hanging, which give a window a furnished look, without -intercepting the light. Low wooden tables painted red, tables for -writing materials, brackets on the walls for vases, candlesticks, and -photograph screens, a long couch with many pillows, a Shaker -rocking-chair, a row of hanging book-shelves,--these, with bed and -curtains in fresh tints, make a pretty room in a country house. - -If possible, people who entertain much should have a suite of bedrooms -for guests, so that no one need be turned out of one's room to make -way for a guest. - -Brass beds are to be recommended as cleanly, handsome, and durable. -Many ladies have, however, found fault with them because they show the -under mattress, where the clothes are tucked in over the upper one. -This can be remedied by making a valance which is finished with a -ruffle at the top, which can be fluted, the whole tied on by tapes. -Two or three of these in white will be all that a housekeeper needs, -and if made of pretty coloured merino to match the room, they will -last clean a long time. - -Every bedroom should have, if possible, a dressing-room, where the -wash-stand, wardrobe, bath-tub, box for boots and shoes, box for -soiled clothes, and toilet-table, perhaps, can be kept. In the new -sanitary houses in London, the water cistern is placed in view behind -glass in these rooms, so that if anything is the matter with the water -supply, it can be remedied immediately. However, in old fashioned -houses, where dressing-rooms cannot be evoked, screens can be so -placed as to conceal the unornamental objects. - -A toilet-table should be ornamental and not hidden, with its curtains, -pockets, looking-glasses, little bows, shelves for bottles, devices -for secret drawers for love letters, and so on. Ivory brushes with the -owner's monogram, all sorts of pretty Japanese boxes, and -dressing-cases, silver-backed brushes and mirrors, buttonhooks, -knives, scissors can be neatly laid out. - -A little table for afternoon tea should stand ready, with a tray of -Satsuma or old Worcester, with cups and tea equipage, and a copper -kettle with alcohol lamp should stand on a bracket on the wall. In the -heating of water, a trivet should be attached to the grate, and a -little iron kettle might sing forever on the hob. Ornamental ottomans -in plush covers, which open and disclose a wood box, should stand by -the fireplace. Chameleon glass lamps with king-fisher stems are pretty -on the mantel-piece, which can be upholstered to match the bed; and -there may be vases in amber, primrose, cream-colour, pale blue, and -ruby. No fragrant flowers or growing plants should be allowed in a -bedroom. There should be at least one clock in the room, to strike the -hour with musical reiteration. - -As for baths, the guest should be asked if he prefers hot or cold -water, and the hour at which he will have it. If a tin hat-bath, or an -india-rubber tub is used, the maid should enter and arrange it in this -manner: first lay a rubber cloth on the floor and then place the tub -on it. Then bring a large pail of cold water, and a can of hot. Place -near the tub a towel-rack hung with fresh towels, both damask and -Turkish, and if a full-length Turkish towel be added it will be a -great luxury. If the guest be a gentleman, and no man-servant be kept, -this should all be arranged the night before, with the exception of -course of the hot water, which can be left outside the door at any -hour in the morning when it is desired. If it is a stationary tub, of -course the matter is a simple one, and depends on the turn of a couple -of faucets. - -Some visitors are very fussy and dislike to be waited on; to such the -option must be given: "Do you prefer to light your own fire, to turn -on your bath, to make your own tea, or shall the maid enter at eight -o'clock and do it for you?" Such questions are often asked in an -English country house. Every facility for doing the work would of -course be supplied to the visitor. - -The bedroom being nowadays made so very attractive, the guest should -stay in it as much as possible, if he or she find that the hostess -likes to be alone; in short, absent yourself occasionally. Do your -letter-writing and some reading in your room. Most people prefer this -freedom and like to be let alone in the morning. - -At a country house, gentlemen should be very particular to dress for -dinner. If not in the regulation claw-hammer, still with a change of -garment. There is a very good garment called a smokee, which is worn -by gentlemen in the summer, a sort of light jacket of black cloth, -which goes well with either black or white cravat; but with all the -_laisser aller_ of a country visit, inattention to the proprieties of -dress is not included. - -A guest must go provided with a lawn-tennis costume, if he plays that -noble game which has become the great consolation of our rising -generation. No doubt the hostess blesses the invention of this great -time killer, as she sees her men and maidens trooping out to the -ground, under the trees. This suggests the subject of out-of-door -refreshment, the claret cup, the champagne cup, the shandy gaff, the -fresh cider, and the thousand and one throat-coolers, for which our -American genius seems to have been inspired to meet the drain of a -very dry climate, and which we shall consider elsewhere. - - - - -ENTERTAINING IN A COUNTRY HOUSE. - - We who love the country salute you who love the town. I praise - the rivulets, the rocks overgrown with moss, and the groves of - the delightful country. And do you ask why? I live and reign - as soon as I have quitted those things which you extol to the - skies with joyful applause, and like a priest's fugitive-slave - I reject luscious wafers; I desire plain bread, which is more - agreeable than honied cakes.--HORACE, _Ode_ X. - - -Poets have been in the habit of praising a country life since the days -of Homer, but Americans have not as a people appreciated its joys. As -soon as a countryman was able to do it, he moved to the largest city -near him, presumably New York, or perhaps Paris. The condition of -opulence, much desired by those who had been bred in poverty, -suggested at once the greater convenience of a town life, and the busy -work-a-day world, to which most Americans are born, necessitates the -nearness to Wall Street, to banks, to people, and to the town. - -City people were content formerly to give their children six weeks of -country air, and old New Yorkers did not move out of the then small -city, even in the hot months. The idea of going to the country to live -for pleasure, to find in it a place in which to spend one's money and -to entertain, has been, to the average American mind, a thing of -recent growth. Perhaps our climate has much to do with this. People -bred in the country feared to meet that long cold winter of the -North, which even to the well-to-do was filled with suffering. Who -does not remember the ice in the pitcher of a morning, which must be -broken before even faces were washed? - -Therefore the furnace-heated city house, the companionship, the -bustle, the stir, and convenience of a city has been, naturally -enough, preferred to the loneliness of the country. As Hawthorne once -said, Americans were not yet sufficiently civilized to live in the -country. When he went to England, and saw a different order of things, -he understood why. - -England, a small place with two thousand years of civilization, with -admirable roads, with landed estates, with a mild winter, with a taste -for sport, with dogs, horses, and well-trained servants, was a very -different place. - -It may be years before we make our country life as agreeable as it is -in England. We have to conquer climate first. But the love of country -life is growing in America. Those so fortunate as to be able to live -in a climate like that of southern California can certainly quote -Horace with sympathy. Those who live so near to a great city as to -command at once city conveniences and country air and freedom, are -amongst the fortunate of the earth. And to hundreds, thousands of -such, in our delightfully prosperous new country, the art of -entertaining in a country house assumes a new interest. - -No better model for a hostess can be found than an Englishwoman. There -is, when she receives her guests, a quiet cordiality, a sense of -pleasurable expectancy, an inbred ease, grace, suavity, composure, and -respect for her visitors, which seems to come naturally to a -well-bred Englishwoman; that is to say, to the best types of the -highest class. To be sure they have had vast experience in the art of -entertaining; they have learned this useful accomplishment from a long -line of well-trained predecessors. They have no domestic cares to -worry them. At the head of her own house, an Englishwoman is as near -perfection as a human being can be. - -There is the great advantage of the English climate, to begin with. It -is less exciting than ours. Nervous women are there almost unknown. -Their ability to take exercise, the moist and soft air they breathe, -their good appetite and healthy digestion give English women a -physical condition almost always denied to an American. - -Our climate drives us on by invisible whips; we breathe oxygen more -intoxicating than champagne. The great servant question bothers us -from the cradle to the grave; it has never entered into an English -woman's scheme of annoyance, so that in an English hostess there is a -total absence of fussiness. - -English women spend the greater part of the year in travelling, or at -home in the country. Town life is with them a matter of six weeks or -three months at the most. They are fond of nature, of walking, of -riding; they share with the men a more vigorous physique than is given -to any other race. A French or Italian woman dreads a long walk, the -companionship of a dozen dogs, the yachting and the race course, the -hunting-field and the lawn tennis pursued with indefatigable -vigilance; but the fair English girl, with her blushing cheeks, her -dog, her pony, and her hands full of wild flowers, is a character -worth crossing the ocean to see. She is the product of the highest -civilization, and as such is still near the divine model which nature -furnishes. She has the underlying charm of simplicity, she is the -very rose of perfect womanhood. She may seem shy, awkward, and -reserved, but what the world calls pride or coldness may turn out to -be hidden virtue, or reserve, or modesty. - -English home education is a seminary of infinite importance; a girl -learns to control her speech, to be always calm and well-bred. She has -been toned down from her youth. She has been carefully taught to -respect the duties of her high position; she has this advantage to -counterbalance the disadvantage which we freeborn citizens think may -come with an overpride of birth,--she has learned the motto _noblesse -oblige_. The English fireside is a beacon light forever to the soldier -in the Crimea, to the colonist in Australia, to the grave official in -India, to the missionary in the South Seas, to the English boy -wherever he may be. It sustains and ennobles the English woman at home -and abroad. - -As a hostess, the English woman is sure to mould her house to look -like home. She has soft low couches for those who like them, -high-backed tall chairs for the tall, low chairs for the lowly. She -has her bookcases and pretty china scattered everywhere, she has -work-baskets and writing-tables and flowers, particularly wild ones, -which look as if she had tossed them in the vases herself. Her house -looks cheerful and cultivated. - -I use the word advisedly, for all taste must be cultivated. A state -apartment in an old English house can be inexpressibly dreary. High -ceilings, stiff old girandoles, pictures of ancestors, miles of -mirrors, and the Laocoon or other specimens of Grecian art, which no -one cares for except in the Vatican, and the ceramic and historical -horrors of some old collector, who had no taste,--are enough to -frighten a visitor. But when a young or an experienced English -hostess has smiled on such a house, there will be some delightful -lumber strewn around, no end of pretty brackets and baskets and -curtains and screens, and couches piled high with cushions; and then -the quaint carvings, the rather affected niches, the mantelpiece -nearly up to the ceiling, as in Hogarth's picture,--all these become -humanized by her touch. The spirit of a hostess should aim at the -combination of use and beauty. Some finer spirits command both, as -Brunelleschi hung the dome at Florence high in air, and made a thing -of beauty, which is a joy forever, but did not forget to build under -it a convenient church as well. As for the bedrooms in an English -country house, they transcend description, they are the very -apotheosis of comfort. - -The dinners are excellent, the breakfast and lunch comfortable, -informal, and easy, the horses are at your disposal, the lawn and -garden are yours for a stroll, the chapel lies near at hand, where you -can study architecture and ancient brass. There are pleasant people in -the house, you are let alone, you are not being entertained. That most -dreadful of sensations, that somebody has you on his mind, and must -show you photographs and lift off your _ennui_ is absent; you seem to -be in Paradise. - -English people will tell you that house parties are dull,--not that -all are, but some are. No doubt the jaded senses lose the power of -being pleased. A visit to an English house, to an American who brings -with her a fresh sense of enjoyment, and who remembers the limitations -of a new country, one who loves antiquity, history, old pictures, and -all that time can do, one who is hungry for Old World refinements, to -such an one a visit to an English country house is delightful. To a -worn-out English set whose business it has been for a quarter of a -century to go from one house to another, no doubt it is dull. Some -unusual distraction is craved. - -"To relieve the monotony and silence and the dull, depressing cloud -which sometimes settles on the most admirably arranged English -dinner-party, even an American savage would be welcomed," says a -modern novel-writer. How much more welcome then is a pretty young -woman who, with a true enthusiasm and a wild liberty, has found her -opportunity and uses it, plays the banjo, tells fortunes by the hand, -has no fear of rank, is in her set a glacier of freshness with a heart -of fire, like Roman punch. - -How much more gladly is a young American woman welcomed, in such a -house, and how soon her head is turned. She is popular until she -carries off the eldest son, and then she is severely criticised, and -by her spoiled caprices becomes a heroine for Ouida to rejoice in, and -the _fond_ of a society novel. - -But the glory is departing from many a stately English country house. -Fortune is failing them; they are, many of them, to rent. Rich -Americans are buying their old pictures. The Gainsboroughs, the Joshua -Reynoldses, the Rembrandts, which have been the pride of English -country houses, are coming down, charmed by the silver music of the -almighty dollar; the old fairy tale is coming true,--even the -furniture dances. - -We have the money and we have the vivacity, according to even our -severest critics; we have now to cultivate the repose of an English -hostess, if we would make our country houses as agreeable as she does. - -We cannot improvise the antiquity, or the old chapel, or the brasses; -we cannot make our roads as fine as those which enable an English -house party to drive sixteen miles to a dinner; in fact we must admit -that they have been nine hundred years making a lawn even. But we must -try to do things our own way, and use our own advantages so that we -can make our guests comfortable. - -The American autumn is the most glorious of seasons for entertaining -in a country house. Nature hangs our hillsides then with a tapestry -that has no equal even at Windsor. The weather, that article which in -America is so apt to be good that if it is bad we apologize for it, is -more than apt to be good in October, and makes the duties of a hostess -easy then, for Nature helps to entertain. - -It is to be feared that we have not yet learned to be guests. Trusting -to that boundless American hospitality which has been apt to say, -"Come when you please and stay as long as you can," we decline an -invitation for the 6th, saying we can come on the 9th. This cannot be -done when people begin to give house-parties. We must go on the 6th or -not at all. - -We should also define the limits of a visit, as in England; one is -asked on Wednesday to arrive at five, to leave at eleven on Saturday. -Then one does not overstay one's welcome. Host and hostess and guest -must thoroughly understand one another on this point, and then -punctuality is the only thing to be considered. - -The opulent, who have butler, footman, and French cooks, need read no -further in this chapter, the remainder of which will be directed to -that larger class who have neither, and who have to help themselves. -No lady should attempt to entertain in the country who has not a good -cook, and one or two attendant maids who can wait well and perform -other duties about the house. With these three and with a good deal of -knowledge herself, a hostess can make a country house attractive. - -The dining-room should be the most agreeable room in the house, shaded -in the morning and cool in the afternoon,--a large room with a -hard-wood floor and mats, if possible, as these are clean and cool. - -Carving should be done by one of the servants at a side table. There -is nothing more depressing on a warm evening than a smoking joint -before one's plate. A light soup only should be served, leaving the -more substantial varieties for cold weather. - -Nowadays the china and glass are so very pretty, and so very cheap, -that they can be bought and used and left in the house all winter -without much risk. If people are living in the country all winter a -different style of furnishing, and a different style of entertaining -is no doubt in order. - -It is well to have very easy laws about breakfast, and allow a guest -to descend when he wishes. If possible give your guest an opportunity -to breakfast in his room. So many people nowadays want simply a cup of -tea, and to wait until noon before eating a heavy meal; so many desire -to eat steaks, chops, toast, eggs, hot cakes, and coffee at nine -o'clock, that it is difficult for a hostess to know what to do. Her -best plan, perhaps, is to have an elastic hour, and let her people -come down when they feel like it. In England the maid enters the -bedroom with tea, excellent black tea, a toasted muffin, and two -boiled eggs at eight o'clock, a pitcher of hot water for the -wash-stand, and a bath. No one is obliged to appear until luncheon, -nor even then if indisposed so to do. Dinner at whatever hour is a -formal meal, and every one should come freshly dressed and in good -form, as the English say. - -The Arab law of hospitality should be printed over every lintel in a -country house: "Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest;" "He who -tastes my salt is sacred; neither I nor my household shall attack him, -nor shall one word be said against him. Bring corn, wine, and fruit -for the passing stranger. Give the one who departs from thy tents the -swiftest horse. Let him who would go from thee take the fleet -dromedary, reserve the lame one for thyself." If these momentous hints -were carried out in America, and if these children of the desert, with -their grave faces, composed manners, and noble creed, could be -literally obeyed, we fear country-house visiting would become almost -too popular. - -But if we cannot give them the fleet dromedary, we can drive them to -the fast train, which is much better than any dromedary. We can make -them comfortable, and enable them to do as they like. Unless we can do -that, we should not invite any one. - -Unless a guest has been rude, it is the worst taste to criticise him. -He has come at your request. He has entered your house as an altar of -safety, an ark of refuge. He has laid his armour down. Your kind -welcome has unlocked his reserve. He has spoken freely, and felt that -he was in the presence of friends. If in this careless hour you have -discovered his weak spot, be careful how you attack it. The intimate -unreserve of a guest should be respected. - -And upon the guest an equal, nay, a superior conscientiousness should -rest, as to any revelation of the secrets he may have found out while -he was a visitor. No person should go from house to house bearing -tales. We do not go to our friend's house to find the skeleton in the -closet. No criticisms of the weaknesses or eccentricities of any -member of the family should ever be heard from the lips of a guest. -"Whose bread I have eaten, he is henceforth my brother," is another -Arab proverb. - -Speak well always of your entertainers, but speak little of their -domestic arrangements. Do not violate the sanctity of the fireside, or -wrong the shelter of the roof-tree which has lent you its protection -for even a night. - -The decorations for a country ballroom, in a rural neighbourhood, have -called forth many an unknown genius in that art which has become the -well-known profession of interior decoration. The favourite place in -Lenox, and at many a summer resort, has been the large floor of a new -barn. Before the equine tenants begin to champ their oats, the youths -and maids assume the right to trip the light fantastic toe on the -well-laid hard floor. The ornamentations at such a ball at Lenox were -candles put in pine shields, with tin holders, and decorations of corn -and wheat sheaves, tied with scarlet ribbons, surrounding pumpkins -which were laid in improvised brackets, hastily cut out of pine, with -hatchets, by the young men. Magnificent autumn leaves were arranged -with ferns as garlands, and many were the devices for putting candles -and kerosene lamps behind these so as to give almost the effect of -stained glass, without causing a general conflagration. - -The effect of a pumpkin surrounded by autumn leaves recalls the -Gardens of the Hesperides. No apple like those golden apples which we -call pumpkins was ever seen there. To be sure they are rather large to -throw to a goddess, and might bowl her down, but they look very -handsome when tranquilly reposing. - -A sort of Druidical procession might be improvised to help along this -ball, and the hostess would amuse her company for a week with the -preparations. - -First, get a negro fiddler to head it, dressed like Browning's Pied -Piper in gay colours, and playing his fiddle. Then have a procession -of children, dressed in gay costumes; following them, "two milk-white -oxen garlanded" with wreaths of flowers and ribbons, driven by a boy -in Swiss costume; then a goat-cart with the baby driving two goats, -also garlanded; next a lovely Alderney cow, also decorated, -accompanied by a milkmaid, carrying a milking-stool; then another long -line of children, followed by the youths and maids, bearing the -decorations for the ballroom. Let all these parade the village street -and wind up at the ballroom, where the cow can be milked, and a -surprise of ice cream and cake given to the children. This is a -Sunday-school picnic and a ball decoration, all in one, and the -country lady who can give it will have earned the gratitude of -neighbours and friends. It has been done. - -In the spring the decorations of a ballroom might be early wild -flowers and the delicate ground-pine, far more beautiful than smilax, -and also ferns, the treasures of the nearest wood. - -Wild flowers, ferns, and grasses, the ground-pine, the checkerberry, -and the partridge berry make the most exquisite garlands, and it is -only of late--when a few great geniuses have discovered that the field -daisy is the prettiest of flowers, that the best beauty is that which -is at our hands wherever we are, that the greatest rarity is the grass -in the meadow--that we have reached the true meaning of interior -decoration. - -Helen Hunt, in one of her prettiest papers, describes the beauty of -kinnikinick, a lovely vine which grows all over Colorado. Although we -have not that, we can even in winter find the hemlock boughs, the -mistletoe, the holly, for our decorations. Of course, hot-house -flowers and smilax, if they can be obtained, are very beautiful and -desirable, but they are not within the reach of every purse, or of -every country house. - -Sheaves of wheat, tied with fine ribbons and placed at intervals -around a room, can be made to have the beauty of an armorial bearing. -These, alternating with banners and hemlock boughs, are very -effective. All these forms which Nature gives us have suggested the -Corinthian capital, the Ionic pillar, the most graceful of Greek -carvings. The acanthus leaf was the inspiration of the architect who -built the Acropolis. - -Vine leaves, especially after they begin to turn, are capable of -infinite suggestion, and we all remember the recent worship of the -sunflower. Hop vines and clematis, especially after the last has gone -to seed, remain long as ornaments. - -As for the refreshments to be served,--the oyster stew, the ice cream, -the good home-made cake, coffee, and tea are within the reach of every -country housekeeper, and are in their way unrivalled. Of course, if -she wishes she can add chicken salad, boned turkey, _pate de foie -gras_, and punch, hot or cold. - -If it is in winter, the coachmen outside must not be forgotten. Some -hot coffee and oysters should be sent to these patient sufferers, for -our coachmen are not dressed as are the Russians, in fur from head to -foot. If possible, there should be a good fire in the kitchen, to -which these attendants on our pleasure could be admitted to thaw out. - - - - -A PICNIC. - - "Come hither, come hither, the broom was in blossom all over - yon rise, - There went a wild murmur of brown bees about it with songs from - the wood. - We shall never be younger, O Love! let us forth to the world - 'neath our eyes-- - Ay! the world is made young, e'en as we, and right fair is her - youth, and right good." - - -Appetites flourish in the free air of hills and meadows, and after -drinking in the ozone of the sea, one feels like drinking something -else. There is a very good story of a reverend bishop who with a -friend went a-fishing, like Peter, and being very thirsty essayed to -draw the cork of a claret bottle. In his zeal he struck his bottle -against a stone, and the claret oozed out to refresh the thirsty -earth, instead of that precious porcelain of human clay of which the -bishop was made. His remark to his friend was, "James, you are a -layman, why don't you say something?" - -Now to avoid having our layman or our reverend wish to say something, -let us try to suggest what they should eat and what they should drink. - -There are many kinds of picnics,--fashionable ones at Newport and -other watering-places, where the French waiters of the period are told -to get up a repast as if at the Casino; there are clam-bakes which are -ideal, and there are picnics at Lenox and at Sharon, where the hotel -keeper will help to fill the baskets. - -But the real picnic, which calls for talent and executive ability, -should emanate from some country house, where two or three other -country houses co-operate and help. Then what jolly drives in the -brakes, what queer old family horses and antediluvian wagons, what -noble dog-carts, and what prim pony phaetons can join in the -procession. The day should be fine, and the place selected a hillside -with trees, commanding a fine view. This is at least desirable. The -necessity for a short walk, a short scramble after leaving the horses, -should not be disregarded. - -The night before the picnic, which presumably starts early, the lady -of the house should see to it that a boiled ham of perfect flavour is -in readiness, and she may flank it with a boiled tongue, four roasted -chickens, a game pie, and any amount of stale bread to cut into -sandwiches. - -Now a sandwich can be at once the best and the worst thing in the -world, but to make it the best the bread should be cut very thin, the -butter, which must be as fresh as a cowslip, should be spread with -deft fingers, then a slice of ham as thin as a wafer with not too much -fat must be laid between, with a _soupcon_ of mustard. The prepared -ham which comes in cans is excellent for making sandwiches. Cheese -sandwiches, substituting a thin slice of American fresh cheese for the -ham, are delicious, and some rollicking good-livers toast the cheese. - -Tongue, cold beef, and even cold sausages make excellent varieties of -sandwich. To prevent their becoming the "sand which is under your -feet" cover them over night with a damp napkin. - -Chicken can be eaten for itself alone, but it should be cut into very -convenient fragments, judiciously salted and wrapped in a very white -napkin. - -The game or veal pie must be in a strong earthen dish, and having been -baked the day before, its pieces will have amalgamated with the crust, -and it will cut into easily handled slices. - -All must be packed in luncheon baskets with little twisted cornucopias -holding pepper and salt, hard-boiled eggs, the patty by itself, -croquettes, if they happen to be made, cold fried oysters, excellent -if in batter and well-drained after cooking; no article must be -allowed to touch another. - -If cake and pastry be taken, each should have a separate basket. Fruit -also should be carefully packed by itself, for if food gets mixed and -mussy, even a mountain appetite will shun it. - -A bottle of olives is a welcome addition, and pickles and other -relishes may be included. Sardines are also in order. - -Now what to drink? Cold tea and iced coffee prepared the night before, -the cream and sugar put in just before starting, should always be -provided. They are capital things to climb on, to knit up the -"ravelled sleeve of care," and if somewhat exciting to the nerves, -will be found the best thirst-quenchers. - -These beverages should be carefully bottled and firmly corked,--and -don't forget the corkscrew. Plenty of tin cups, or those strong glass -beer-mugs which you can throw across the room without breaking, should -also be taken. - -Claret is the favourite wine for picnics, as being light and -refreshing. Ginger ale is excellent and cheap and compact. -"Champagne," says Walter Besant in his novel "By Celia's Arbour" is a -wine as Catholic as the Athanasian Creed, because it goes well with -chicken and with the more elaborate _pate de foie gras_. - -Some men prefer sherry with their lunch, some take beer. If you have -room and a plentiful cellar, take all these things. But tea and coffee -and ginger ale will do for any one, anywhere. - -It has been suggested by those who have suffered losses from -mischievous friends, that a composite basket containing everything -should be put in each carriage, but this is refining the matter. - -Arrived at the picnic-ground, the whole force should be employed by -the hostess as an amiable body of waiters. The ladies should set the -tables, and the men bring water from the spring. The less ceremony the -better. - -Things have not been served in order, they never are at a picnic, and -the cunning hostess now produces some claret cup. She has made it -herself since they reached the top of the mountain. Two bottles of -claret to one of soda water, two lemons, a glass of sherry, a cucumber -sliced in to give it the most perfect flavour, plenty of sugar and -ice; and where had she hidden that immense pitcher, a regular brown -toby, in which she has brewed it? - -"I know," said an _enfant terrible_; "I saw her hiding it under the -back seat." - -There it is, filled with claret cup, the most refreshing drink for a -warm afternoon. Various young persons of opposite sexes, who have been -looking at each other more than at the game pie, now prepare to -disappear in the neighbouring paths, under a pretence but feebly made -of plucking blackberries,--artless dissemblers! - -Mamma shouts, "Mary, Caroline, Jane, Tom, Harry, be back before five, -for we must start for home." May she get them, even at half-past six. -From a group of peasants over a bunch of sticks in the Black Forest, -to a queen who delighted to picnic in Fontainebleau, these _al fresco_ -entertainments are ever delicious. We cannot put our ears too close to -the confessional of Nature. She has always a new secret to tell us, -and from the most artificial society to that which is primitive and -rustic, they always carry the same charm. It is the Antaeus trying to -get back to Mother Earth, who strengthens him. - -In packing a lunch for a fisherman, or a hunter, the hostess often has -to explain that brevity is the soul of wit. She must often compress a -few eatables into the side pocket, and the bottle of claret into the -fishing-basket. If not, she can palm off on the man one of those tin -cases which poor little boys carry to school, which look like books -and have suggestive titles, such as "Essays of Bacon," "Crabbe's -Tales," or "News from Turkey," on the back. If the fisherman will take -one of these his sandwiches will arrive in better order. - -The Western hunter takes a few beans and some slices of pork, some say -in his hat, when he goes off on the warpath. The modern hunter or -fisher, if he drive to the meet or the burn, can be trusted with an -orthodox lunch-basket, which should hold cold tea, cold game-pie, a -few olives, and a bit of cheese, and a large reserve of sandwiches. -When we grow more celestial, when we achieve the physical theory of -another life, we may know how to concentrate good eating in a more -portable form than that of the sandwich, but we do not know it yet. - -Take an egg sandwich,--hard-boiled eggs chopped, and laid between the -bread and butter. Can anything be more like the sonnet?--complete in -only fourteen lines, and yet perfection! Only indefinite chicken, -wheaten flour, the milk of the cow, all that goes to make up our daily -food in one little compact rectangle! Egg sandwich! It is immense in -its concentration. - -Some people like to take salads and apple pies to picnics. There are -great moral objections to thus exposing these two delicacies to the -rough experiences of a picnic. A salad, however well dressed, is an -oily and slippery enjoyment. Like all great joys, it is apt to escape -us, especially in a lunch basket. Apple pie, most delicate of pasties, -will exude, and you are apt to find the crust on the top of the -basket, and the apple in the bottom of the carriage. - -If you will take salad, and will not be taught by experience, make a -perfect _jardiniere_ of all the cold vegetables, green peas, beans, -and cauliflower, green peppers, cucumbers, and cold potatoes, and take -this mixture dry to the picnic. Have your mayonnaise in a bottle, and -dress the salad with it after sitting down, on a very slippery, ferny -rock, at the table. Truth compels the historian to observe, that this -is delicious with the ham, and you will not mind in the least, until -the next day, the large grease-spot on the side breadth of your gown. - -As for the apple pie, that is taken at the risk of the owner. It had -better be left at home for tea. - -Of course, _pate de foie gras_, sandwiches, boned turkey, jellied -tongue, the various cold birds, as partridges, quails, pheasant, and -chicken, and raw oysters, can be taken to a very elaborate picnic near -a large town. Salmon dressed with green sauce, lobster salad, every -kind of salad, is in order if you can only get it there, and -"_caviare_ to the general." Cold terrapin is not to be despised; eaten -on a bit of bread it is an excellent dainty, and so is the cold fried -oyster. - -Public picnics, like Sunday-school picnics, fed with ice cream and -strawberries; or the clam bake, a unique and enjoyable affair by the -sea, are in the hands of experts, and need no description here. The -French people picnic every day in the _Bois de Boulogne_, the woods of -Versailles, and even on their asphalt, eating out of doors when they -can. It is a very strange thing that we do not improve our fine -climate by eating our dinners and breakfasts with the full draught of -an unrivalled ozone. - - - - -PASTIMES OF LADIES. - - Her feet beneath her petticoat, - Like little mice, stole in and out, - As if they feared the light; - But oh, she dances such a way! - No sun upon an Easter day - Is half so fine a sight. - SIR JOHN SUCKLING. - - -The "London Times" says that the present season has seen "driving jump -to a great height of favour amongst fashionable women." - -It is a curious expression, but enlightens us as to the liberty which -even so great an authority takes with our common language. There is no -doubt of the fact that the pony phaeton and the pair of ponies are -becoming a great necessity to an energetic woman. The little pony and -the Ralli cart, as a ladies' pastime, is a familiar figure in the -season at Newport, at a thousand country places, at the seaside, in -our own Central Park, and all through the West and South. - -It has been much more the custom for ladies in the West and South to -drive themselves, than for those at the North; consequently they drive -better. Only those who know how to drive well ought ever to attempt -it, for they not only endanger their own lives, but a dozen other -lives. Whoever has seen a runaway carriage strike another vehicle, and -has beheld the breaking up, can realize for the first time the -tremendous force of an object in motion. The little Ralli cart can -become a battering-ram of prodigious force. - -No form of recreation is so useful and so becoming as horseback -exercise. No English woman looks so well as when turned out for -out-of-door exercise. And our American women, who buy their habits and -hats in London, are getting to have the same _chic_. Indeed, so -immensely superior is the London habit considered, that the French -circus-women who ride in the Bois, making so great a sensation, go -over to London to have their habits made, and thus return the -compliment which English ladies pay to Paris, in having all their -dinner gowns and tea gowns made there. Perhaps disliking this sort of -copy, the Englishwomen are becoming careless of their appearance on -horseback, and are coming out in a straw hat, a covert coat, and a -cotton skirt. - -The soft felt hat has long been a favourite on the Continent, at -watering-places for the English; and it is much easier for the head. -Still, in case of a fall it does not save the head like a hard, -masculine hat. - -We have not yet, as a nation, taken to cycling for women; but many -Englishwomen go all over the globe on a tricycle. A husband and wife -are often seen on a tricycle near London, and women who lead sedentary -lives, in offices and schools, enjoy many of their Saturday afternoons -in this way. - -Boating needs to be cultivated in America. It is a superb exercise for -developing a good figure; and to manage a punt has become a common -accomplishment for the riverside girls. Ladies have regattas on the -Thames. - -Fencing, which many actresses learn, is a very admirable process for -developing the figure. The young Princesses of Wales are adepts in -this. It requires an outfit consisting of a dainty tunic reaching to -the knees, a fencing-jacket of soft leather with tight sleeves, -gauntlet gloves, a mask, a pair of foils, and costing about fifteen -dollars. - -American women as a rule are not fond of walking. There must be -something in the nature of an attraction or a duty to rouse our -delicate girls to walk. They will not do it for their health alone. -Gymnastic teaching is, however, giving them more strength, and it -would be well if in every family of daughters there were some -calisthenic training, to develop the muscles, and to induce a more -graceful walk. - -To teach a girl to swim is almost a duty, and such splendid physical -exercises will have a great influence over that nervous distress which -our climate produces with its over-fulness of oxygen. - -If girls do not like to walk, they all like to dance, and it is not -intended as a pun when we mention that "a great jump" has been made -back to the old-fashioned dancing, in which freedom of movement is -allowed. Those who saw Mary Anderson's matchless grace in the Winter's -Tale all tried to go and dance like her, and to see Ellen Terry's -spring, as the pretty Olivia, teaches one how entirely beautiful is -this strong command of one's muscles. From the German cotillion, back -to the Virginia reel, is indeed a bound. - -Our grandfathers knew how to dance. We are fast getting back to them. -The traditions of Taglioni still lingered fifty years ago. The -earliest dancing-masters were Frenchmen, and our ancestors were taught -to _pirouette_ as did Vestris when he was so obliging as to say after -a royal command, "The house of Vestris has always danced for that of -Bourbon." - -The galop has, during the long langour of the dance, alone held its -own, in the matter of jollity. The glide waltz, the redowa, the -stately minuet, give only the slow and graceful motions. The galop has -always been a great favourite with the Swedes, Danes, and Russians, -while the redowa reminds one of the graceful Viennese who dance it so -well. The mazourka, danced to wild Polish music, is a poetical and -active affair. - -The introduction of Hungarian bands and Hungarian music is another -reason why dancing has become a "hop, skip and a bound," without -losing dignity or grace. Activity need not be vulgar. - -The German cotillion, born many years ago at Vienna to meet the -requirements of court etiquette, is still the fashionable dance with -which the ball closes. Its favours, beginning with flowers and ribbons -and bits of tinsel, have now ripened into fans, bracelets, gold -scarf-pins and pencil-cases, and many things more expensive. Favours -may cost five thousand dollars for a fashionable ball, or dance, as -they say in London. - -The German is a dance of infinite variety, and to lead it requires a -man of head. One such leader, who can construct new figures, becomes a -power in society. The waltz, galop, redowa, and polka step can all be -utilized in it. There is a slow walk in the quadrille figure, a -stately march, the bows and courtesies of the old minuet, and above -all, the _tour de valse_, which is the means of locomotion from place -to place. The changeful exigencies of the various figures lead the -forty or fifty, or the two hundred to meet, exchange greetings, dance -with each other, and change their geographical position many times. -Indeed no army goes through more evolutions. - -A pretty figure is _La Corbeille, l'Anneau, et la Fleur_. The first -couple performs a _tour de valse_, after which the gentleman presents -the lady with a basket, containing a ring and a flower, then resumes -his seat. The lady presents the ring to one gentleman, the flower to -another, and the basket to the third. The gentleman to whom she -presents the ring selects a partner for himself, the gentleman who -receives the flower dances with the lady who presents it, while the -other gentleman holds the basket in his hand and dances alone. - -The kaleidoscope is one of the prettiest figures. The four couples -perform a _tour de valse_, then form as for a quadrille; the next four -couples in order take positions behind the first four couples, each of -the latter couples facing the same as the couples in front. At a -signal from the leader, the ladies of the inner couples cross right -hands, move entirely round and turn into places by giving left hands -to their partners. At the same time the outer couples waltz half round -to opposite places. At another signal the inner couples waltz entirely -round, and finish facing outward. At the same time the outer couples -_chassent croise_ and turn at corners with right hands, then -_dechassent_ and turn partners with left hands. Valse _generale_ with -_vis a vis_. - -_La Cavalier Trompe_ is another favourite figure. Five or six couples -perform a _tour de valse_. They afterwards place themselves in ranks -of two, one couple behind the other. The lady of the first gentleman -leaves him and seeks a gentleman of another column. While this is -going on the first gentleman must not look behind him. The first lady -and the gentleman whom she has selected separate and advance on -tip-toe on each side of the column, in order to deceive the gentleman -at the head, and endeavour to join each other for a waltz. If the -first gentleman is fortunate enough to seize his lady, he leads off in -a waltz; if not, he must remain at his post until he is able to take a -lady. The last gentleman remaining dances with the last lady. - -To give a German in a private house, a lady has all the furniture -removed from her parlours, the floor covered with crash over the -carpet, and a set of folding-chairs for the couples to sit in. A bare -wooden floor is preferable to the carpet and crash. - -It is considered that all taking part in a German are introduced to -one another, and on no condition whatever must a lady, so long as she -remains in the German, refuse to speak or to dance with any gentleman -whom she may chance to receive as a partner. Every American should -learn that he can speak to any one whom he meets at a friend's house. -The roof is an introduction, and, for the purpose of making his -hostess comfortable, the guest should, at dinner-party and dance, -speak to his next neighbour. - -The laws of the German are so strict, and to many so tiresome, that a -good many parties have abjured it, and merely dance the round dances, -the lancers and quadrilles, winding up with the Sir Roger de Coverley -or the Virginia Reel. - -The leader of the German must have a comprehensive glance, a quick ear -and eye, and a great belief in himself. General Edward Ferrero, who -made a good general, declared that he owed all his success in war to -his training as a dancing-master. With all other qualities, the leader -of the German must have tact. It is no easy matter to get two hundred -people into all sorts of combinations and mazes and then to get them -out again, to offend nobody, and to produce that elegant kaleidoscope -called the German. - -The term _tour de valse_ is used technically, meaning that the couple -or couples performing it execute the round dance designated by the -leader once round the room. Should the room be small, they make a -second tour. After the introductory _tour de valse_ care must be taken -by those who perform it not to select ladies and gentlemen who are on -the floor, but from among those who are seated. When the leader claps -his hands to warn those who are prolonging the valse, they must -immediately cease dancing. - -The favours for the German are often fans, and this time-honoured, -historic article grows in beauty and expense every day. And what -various memories come in with the fan! It was created in primeval -ages. The Egyptian ladies had fans of lotus leaves; and lately a -breakfast was given all in Egyptian fashion, except the eating. The -Roman ladies carried immense fans of peacocks' feathers. They did not -open and shut like ours, opening and shutting being a modern -invention. The _flabilliferaor_ or fan-bearer, was some young -attendant, generally female, whose common business it was to carry her -mistress's fan. There is a Pompeian painting of Cupid as the -fan-bearer of Ariadne, lamenting her desertion by Theseus. In Queen -Elizabeth's day the fan was usually made of feathers, like that still -used in the East. The handle was richly ornamented and set with -stones. A fashionable lady was never without her fan, which was held -to her girdle by a jewelled chain. That fashion, with the large -feathers, has returned in our day. Queen Elizabeth dropped a -silver-handled fan into the moat at Arnstead Hall, which occasioned -many madrigals. Sir Francis Drake presented to his royal mistress a -fan of feathers, white and red, enamelled with a half-moon of -mother-of-pearl. Poor Leicester gave her, as his New Year's gift in -1574, a fan of white feathers set in a handle of gold, adorned on one -side with two very fair emeralds, and fully garnished with rubies and -diamonds, and on each side a white bear,--his cognizance,--and two -pearls hanging, a lion rampant and a white, muzzled bear at his foot. -Just before Christmas in 1595 Elizabeth went to Kew, and dined at my -Lord Keeper's house, and there was handed her a fine fan with a handle -garnished with diamonds. - -Fans in Shakspeare's time seem to have been composed of ostrich and -other feathers, fastened to handles. Gentlemen carried fans in those -days, and in one of the later figures of the German they now carry -fans. According to an old manuscript in the Ashmolean Museum, Sir -Edward Cole rode the circuit with a prodigious fan, which had a long -stick with which he corrected his daughters. Let us hope that that -custom will not be reintroduced. - -The vellum fans painted by Watteau, and the lovely fans of Spain -enriched with jewels are rather too expensive for favours for the -German; one very rich entertainer gave away tortoise-shell fans with -jewelled sticks, two years ago, at Delmonico's. Fans of silk, -egg-shaped, and painted with birds, were used for an Easter German. - -Ribbons were used for a cotillon dinner with very good effect. "From -the chandelier in the centre of the dining room," we read, "depended -twenty scarfs of grosgrain ribbon, each three and a half yards long -and nine inches wide, heavily fringed and richly adorned at both ends -with paintings of flowers and foliage. These scarfs were so arranged -that an end of each came down to the place one of the ladies was to -occupy at the table, and care was taken in their selection to have -colours harmonizing with the ladies' dress and complexion." - -These cotillion dinners have been a pretty fashion for two or three -winters, as they enable four or five young hostesses to each give a -dinner, the whole four to meet with their guests at one house for a -small German, after the dinner. Each hostess compares her list with -that of her neighbour, that there shall be no confusion. It is -believed that this device was the invention of the incomparable Mr. -McAllister, to whom society owes a great deal. Fashionable society -like the German must have a leader, some one who will take trouble, -and think out these elaborate details. Nowhere in Europe is so much -pains taken about such details as with us. - -The _menus_ of these cotillion dinners are often water-colour -paintings, worthy of preservation; sometimes a scene from one of -Shakspeare's plays, sometimes a copy of some famous French -picture,--in either case something delightfully artistic. - -For a supper after a dance the dishes are placed on the table, and it -is served _en buffet_; but for a sit-down supper, served at little -tables, the service should be exactly like a dinner except that there -is no soup or fish. - -The manner of using flowers in America at such entertainments is -simply bewildering. A climbing rose will seem to be going everywhere -over an invisible trellis; delicate green vines will depend from the -chandelier, dropping roses; roses cover the entire table-cloth; or -perhaps the flowers are massed, all of yellow, or of white, or red, or -pink. - -Nothing could exceed the magnificence of the great baskets of white -and yellow chrysanthemums, roses, violets, and carnations, at a -breakfast given to the Comte de Paris, at Delmonico's on October 20th, -and at the subsequent dinner given him by his brother officers of the -Army of the Potomac. His royal arms were in white flowers, the _fleur -de lis_ of Joan of Arc, on a blue ground of flowers. Jacqueminot Roses -went up and down the table, with the words "Grand Army of the Potomac" -in white flowers. - -The orchid, that most regal and expensive of all flowers, a single -specimen often costing many dollars, was used by a lady to make an -imitation fire, the wood, the flames, and all consisting of flowers -placed in a most artistic chimney-piece. - -Indeed, the cost of the cut flowers used in New York in one winter for -entertaining is said to be five millions of dollars. Orchids have this -advantage over other flowers--they have no scent; and that in a mixed -company and a hot room is an advantage, for some people cannot bear -even the perfume of a rose. - -A large lump of ice, with flowers trained over it, is a delightfully -refreshing adornment for a hot ballroom. In grand party decorations, -like one given by the Prince of Wales to the Czarina of Russia, ten -tons of ice were used as an ornamental rockery. In smaller rooms the -glacier can be cut out and its base hidden in a tub, lights put behind -it and flowers and green vines draped over it. The effect is magical. -The flowers are kept fresh, the white column looks always well, and -the coolness it diffuses is delicious. It might, by way of contrast -to the Dark Continent, be a complimentary decoration for a supper to -be given to Mr. Stanley, to ornament the ballroom with Arctic -bowlders, around which should be hung the tropical flowers and vines -of Africa. - - - - -PRIVATE THEATRICALS. - - A poor thing, my masters, not the real thing at all, a base - imitation, but still a good enough mock-orange, if you cannot - have the real thing.--OLD PLAY. - - -Some of our opulent citizens in the West, particularly in that -wondrous city Chicago, which is nearer to Aladdin's Lamp than anything -else I have seen, have built private theatres in their palaces. This -is taking time by the forelock, and arranging for a whole family of -coming histrionic geniuses. - -When all the arrangements for private theatricals must be -improvised,--and, indeed, it is a greater achievement to play in a -barn than on the best stage,--the following hints may prove -serviceable. - -Wherever the amateur actor elects to play, he must consider the -extraneous space behind the acting arena necessary for his exits and -entrances, and his theatrical properties. In an ordinary house the -back parlour, with two doors opening into the dining-room, makes an -ideal theatre, for the exits can be masked and the space is especially -useful. At least one door opening into another room is absolutely -necessary, if no better arrangement can be made. The best stage, of -course, is like that of a theatre, raised, with space at the back and -sides, for the players to retire to, and issue from. But if nothing -better can be managed, a pair of screens and a curtain will do. - -It is hardly necessary to say that all these arrangements depend on -the requirements of the play and its legitimate business, which may -demand a table, a bureau, a piano, or a bed. That very funny piece -"Box and Cox" needs nothing but a bed, a table, and a fireplace. And -here we would say to the youthful actor, Select your play at first -with a view to its requiring little change of scene, and not much -furniture. A young actor needs space. He is embarrassed by too many -chairs and tables. Then choose a play which has so much varied -incident that it will play itself. - -The first thing is to build the stage. Any carpenter will lay a few -stout boards on end pieces, which are simply squared joists, and for -very little money will take away the boards and joists afterwards, so -that a satisfactory stage can be built for a few dollars. Sometimes, -ingenious boys build their own stage with a few boxes, but this is apt -to be dangerous. Very few families are without an old carpet which -will serve for a stage covering; and if this is lacking, green baize -is very cheap. A whole stage fitting, curtains and all, can be made of -green baize. - -Footlights may be made of tin, with bits of candle put in; or a row of -old bottles of equal height, with candles stuck in the mouth, make a -most admirable and cheap set of footlights. - -The curtain is always difficult to arrange, especially in a parlour. A -light wooden frame should be made by the carpenter,--firm at the -joints, and as high as the room allows. Attached to the stage, at the -foot, this frame forms three sides of a square. The curtain must be -firmly nailed to the top piece. A stiff wire should be run along the -lower edge of the curtain, and a number of rings attached to the back -of it, in squares,--three rows, of four rings each, extending from top -to bottom. Three cords are now fastened to the wire, and passing -through the rings are run over three pulleys on the upper piece of the -frame. It is well for all young managers of garret theatres to get up -one of these curtains, even with the help of an upholsterer, as the -other draw-curtain never works so securely, and often hurts the -_denouement_ of the play. When the drop curtain above described is -used, one person holds all the strings, and it pulls together. - -Now for the stage properties. They are easily made. A boy who can -paint a little will indicate a scene, with black paint, on a white -ground; tinsel paper, red flannel, and old finery will supply the -fancy dresses. - -A stage manager who is a natural born leader is indispensable. Certain -ambitious amateurs performed the opera of "Patience" in New York. It -would have been a failure but for the musical talent of the two who -took the title _roles_, and the diligent six weeks' training which the -players received at the hand of the principal actor in the real -operetta. This seems very dear for the whistle, when one can go and -hear the real tune. It is in places where the real play cannot be -heard, that amateur theatricals are of importance. - -Young men at college get up the best of all amateur plays, because -they are realistic, and stop at nothing to make strong outlines and -deep shadows. They, too, buy many properties like wigs and dresses, -and give study and observation to the make-up of the character. - -If they need a comic face they have an artist from the theatre put it -on with a camel's-hair pencil. An old man's face, or a brigand's is -only a bit of water-colour. A pretty girl can be made out of a heavy -young man by rouge, chalk, and a blond wig. For a drunkard or a -villain, a few purple spots are painted on chin, cheek, forehead and -nose, judiciously. - -Young girls are apt, in essaying private theatricals, to sacrifice too -much to prettiness. This is a fatal mistake; one must even sacrifice -native bloom if the part requires it, or put on rouge, if necessary. - -As amusement is the object, the plays had better be comedy than -tragedy; and no such delicate wordy duels as the "Scrap of Paper," -should be attempted, as that requires the highest skill of two great -actors. - -After reading the part and committing the lines to memory, young -actors must submit to many and long rehearsals. After many of these -and much study, they must not be discouraged if they grow worse -instead of better. Perseverance conquers all things, and at last they -reach the dress rehearsal. This is generally a disappointment, and -time should be allowed for two dress rehearsals. It is a most -excellent and advantageous discouragement, if it leads the actors to -more study. - -The stage manager has a difficult _role_ to play, for he may discover -that his actors must change parts. This nearly always excites a -wounded self-love, and ill-feeling. But each one should bear in mind -that he is only a part of a perfect whole, and be willing to sacrifice -himself. - -If, however, plays are not successful and cease to amuse, the amateur -stage can be utilized for _tableaux vivants_, which are always pretty, -and may be made very artistic. The principle of a picture, the -pyramidal form, should be closely observed in a tableau. - -There should be a square of black tarletan or gauze nailed before the -picture, between the players and the footlights. The drop curtain -must be outside of this, and go up and down very carefully, at a -concerted signal. - -Although the pure white light of candles, or lime light, is the best -for such pictures, very pretty effects can be easily made by the -introduction of coloured lights, such as are produced by the use of -nitrate of strontia, chlorate of potash, sulphuret of antimony, -sulphur, oxymuriate of potassa, metallic arsenic, and pulverized -charcoal. Muriate of ammonia makes a bluish-green fire, and many -colours can be obtained by a little study of chemistry. - -To make a red fire, take five ounces of nitrate of strontia dry, and -one and a half ounces finely powdered sulphur; also five drachms -chlorate of potash, and four drachms sulphuret of antimony. Powder the -last two separately in a mortar, then mix them on paper and having -mixed the other ingredients, previously powdered, add these last and -rub the whole together on paper. To use, mix a little spirits of wine -with the powder, and burn in a flat iron plate or pan; the effect is -excellent on the picture. - -Sulphate of copper when dissolved in water turns it a beautiful blue. -The common red cabbage gives three colours. Slice the cabbage and pour -boiling water on it. When cold add a small quantity of alum, and you -have purple. Potash dissolved in the water will give a brilliant -green. A few drops of muriatic acid will turn the cabbage water into -crimson. Put these various coloured waters in globes, and with candles -behind them they will throw the light on the picture. - -Again, if a ghastly look be required, and a ghost scene be in order, -mix common salt with spirits of wine in a metal cup, and set it upon -a wire frame over a spirit lamp. When the cup becomes heated, and the -spirits of wine ignites, the other lights in the room should be -extinguished, and that of the spirit lamp hidden from the observer. A -light will be produced that will make the players seem like the -witches in Macbeth, "that look not like the inhabitants of the earth, -but yet are of it." - -The burning of common salt produces a very weird effect; for salt has -properties other than the conservative, preserving, hospitable -qualities which legend and the daily needs of mankind have ascribed to -it. - -A very pretty effect for Christmas Eve may be made by throwing these -lights on the highly decorated tree. A set of Christmas tableaux can -be arranged, giving groups of the early Christians going into the -Catacombs as the Pagans are going out, with a white shaft of light -making a cross between them. A picture representing the Christmas of -each nationality can be made, as for instance the Russian, the -Norwegian, the Dane, the Swede, the German, the English of three -hundred years ago. These are all possible to a family in which are -artistic boys and girls. - -The grotesque is lost in a tableau where there seems to be an aesthetic -need of the heroic, the refined, and the historic. A double action may -be represented with good effect, and here can be used the coloured -lights. Angels above, for instance, can well be in another colour than -sleeping children below. - -To return for a moment to the first use of the stage, the play. It is -a curious thing to see the plays which amateurs act well. The "Rivals" -is one of these, and so is "Everybody's Friend." "The Follies of a -Night" plays itself, and "The Happy Pair" goes very well. "A Regular -Fix," one of Sothern's plays, is exceptionally funny, as is "The -Liar," in which poor Lester Wallack was so very good. "Woodcock's -Little Game," too, is excellent. - -Cheap and unsophisticated theatricals, such as schoolboys and girls -can get up in the garret or the basement, are those which give the -most pleasure. But so strong is the underlying love of the drama that -youth and maid will attempt the hard and sometimes discouraging work, -even in cities where professional work is so very much better. - -The private amateur player should study to be accurate as to costume. -Pink-satin Marie Antoinette slippers must not be worn with a Greek -dress; classic sandals are easily made. - -It is an admirable practice to get up a play in French. It helps to -conquer the _delicatesse_ of the language. The French _repertoire_ is -very rich in easily acted plays, which any French teacher can -recommend. - -Imitation Negro minstrels are funny, and apt to be better than the -original. A funny man, a mimic, one who can talk in various dialects, -is a precious boon to an amateur company. Many of Dion Boucicault's -Irish characters can be admirably imitated. - -In this connection, why not call in the transcendent attraction of -music? Now that we have lady orchestras, why not have them on the -stage, or let them be asked to play occasional music between the acts, -or while the tableaux are on? It adds a great charm. - -The family circle in which the brothers have learned the key bugle, -cornet, trombone, and violoncello, and the sisters the piano and harp, -and the family that can sing part songs are to be envied. What a -blessing in the family is the man who can sing comic songs, and who -does not sing them too often. - -A small operetta is often very nicely done by amateurs. We need not -refer to the lamented "Pinafore," but that sort of thing. Would that -Sir Arthur would write another "Pinafore!" but, alas! there was never -but one. - -A private theatre is a great addition to a large country house, and it -can be made cheaply and well by a modern architect. It can be used as -a ballroom on off evenings, as a dining-room, or for any other -gathering. - -Nothing can be more improving for young people than to study a play. -Observe the expressions of the Oberammergau peasants, their -intellectual and happy faces, "informed with thought," and contrast -them with the faces of the German and Bavarian peasants about them. -Their old pastor, Deisenberg, by training them in poetry and -declamation, by founding his well-written play on their old -traditions, by giving them this highly improving recreation for their -otherwise starved lives, made another set of human beings of them. -They have a motive in life besides the mere gathering in of a -livelihood. - -So it would be in any country neighbourhood, however rustic and -remote, if some bright woman would assemble the young people at her -house and train them to read and recite, lifting their young souls -above vulgar gossip, and helping them to understand the older -dramatists, to even attempt Shakspeare. Funny plays might be thrown in -to enliven the scene, but there should be a good deal of earnest work -inculcated as well. Music, that most divine of all the arts, should be -assiduously cultivated. All the Oberammergau school-masters must be -musicians, and all the peasants learn how to sing. What a good thing -it would be if our district school-teachers should learn how to teach -their scholars part songs. - -When the art of entertaining has reached its apotheosis, we feel -certain that we can have this influence emanating from every opulent -country house, and that there will be no more complaint of dulness. - - - - -HUNTING AND SHOOTING. - - My love shall hear the music of my hounds: - Uncouple in the western valley; let them go,-- - Dispatch, I say, and find the Forester. - We will, fair Queen, up to the mountain's top. - MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. - - -Fashion is at her best when she makes men and women love horses, dogs, -boating, swimming, and all out-of-door games,--when she preaches -physical culture. It is a good thing to see a man play lawn-tennis -under a hot sun for hours; you feel that such a man could storm a -battery. Nothing is more encouraging to the lover of all physical -culture than the hunting, shooting, boating, and driving mania in the -United States. - -"Hunting" and "shooting" are sometimes used as synonymous terms in -America; in England they mean quite different things. Hunting is -riding to hounds without firearms, letting the dogs kill the fox; -while shooting is to tramp over field, mountain, and through forest -with dogs and gun, to kill deer, grouse, or partridge. The 12th of -August is the momentous day, the first of the grouse shooting. Every -one who can afford it, or who has a friend who can afford it, is off -for the moors on the 11th, hoping to fill his bag. The 1st of -September, partridge, and the 1st of October, pheasant shooting, are -gala days, and the man is little thought of who cannot handle a gun. - -In August inveterate fox-hunters meet at four or five o'clock in the -morning for cub-hunting, which amusement is over by eleven or twelve. -As the winter comes on the real hunting begins, and lasts until late -in March. In the midland counties it is the special sport. Melton, in -Leicestershire, is a noted hunting rendezvous. People, many Americans -among them, take boxes there for the season, with large stables, and -beguile the evenings with dinners, dancing, and card-parties. It is a -sort of winter watering-place without any water, where the wine flows -in streams every night, and where the brandy flask is filled every -morning, "in case of accidents" while out with the hounds. An -enthusiast in riding can be in the saddle ten or twelve hours out of -every day, except Sunday, which is a dull day at Melton. - -All the houses within such a neighbourhood are successively made the -rendezvous or meet of the hunt. People come from great distances and -send their horses by rail; others drive or ride in, and send their -valuable hunters by a groom, who walks them the whole way. The show of -"pink" is generally good. "Pink" means the scarlet hunting-coat worn -by the gentlemen, the whippers-in, etc. The weather fades these coats -to a pale pink very much esteemed by the older men. They suggest the -scars of a veteran warrior, hence the name. Some men hunt in black, -but always in top boots. These boots are a cardinal point in a -sportsman's dandyism. - -Once or twice during the season a hunt breakfast is given in the house -where the meet takes place. This is a pretty scene. All sorts of neat -broughams, dog-carts, and old family chariots bring the ladies, who -wear as much scarlet as good taste will allow. - -Ladies, with their children, come to these breakfasts, which are -sumptuous affairs. Great rounds of cold beef, game patties, and salads -are spread out. All sorts of drinks, from beer up to champagne, are -offered. One of the ladies of the house sits at the head of the table, -with a large antique silver urn before her, and with tea and coffee -ready for those who wish these beverages. - -Some girls come on horseback, and look very pretty in their habits. -These Dianas cut slices of beef and make impromptu sandwiches for -their friends outside who have not dismounted. The daughters of the -house stand on the steps while liveried servants hand around cake and -wine, and others carry foaming tankards of ale, and liberal slices of -cheese, among the farmers and attendants of the kennel. - -It is an in-door and an out-door feast. The hounds are gathered in a -group, the huntsman standing in the centre cracking his whip, and -calling each hound by his name. Two or three masters of neighbouring -packs are talking to the master of the hounds, a prominent gentleman -of the county, who holds fox-hunting as something sacred, and the -killing of a fox otherwise than in a legitimate manner as one of the -seven deadly sins. - -Twelve o'clock strikes, and every one begins to move. Generally the -throw off is at eleven, but in honour of this breakfast a delay has -been allowed. The huntsman mounts his horse and blows his horn; the -hounds gather around him, and the whole field starts out. They are -going to draw the covers at some large plantation above the park. The -earths, or fox-holes, have been stopped for miles around, so that the -fox once started has no refuge to make for, and is compelled to give -the horses a run. It is a fine, manly sport, for with all the odds -against him, the fox often gets away. - -It is a pretty sight. The hounds go first, with nose to the ground, -searching for the scent. The hunters and whippers-in, professional -sportsmen, in scarlet coats and velvet jockey caps, ride immediately -next to them, followed by the field. In a little while a confusion of -rumours and cries is heard in the wood, various calls are blown on the -horn, and the frequent cracking of high whips, which sound is used to -keep the hounds in order, has all the effect of a succession of pistol -shots. Hark! the fox has broken cover, and a repeated cry of "Tally -Ho!" bursts from the wood. Away go the hounds, full cry, and what -sportsmen call their music, something between a bay and a yelp, is -indeed a pleasant sound, heard as it always is under circumstances -calculated to give it a romantic character. Many ladies and small boys -are amongst the followers of the chase. As soon as a boy can sit on -his pony he begins to follow the hounds. A fox has no tail and no feet -in hunting parlance, he has only a brush and pads. The lady who is in -at the death receives the brush, and the man the pads, as a rule. - -The hunt is a privileged institution in England, and can make gaps in -hedges and break down walls with impunity. The farmer never complains -if his wheat and turnip fields are ruined by the sport, nor does a -lady complain if her flower garden and ornamental arbour be laid in -ruins. The wily fox who has made such a skilful run must be followed -at any cost. - -Shooting is, however, the favourite sport of all Englishmen. Both -pheasants and partridges are first carefully reared; the eggs -generally purchased in large quantities, hatched by hens, and the -birds fed through the summer with meal and other appropriate food. The -gamekeepers take the greatest pride in the rearing of these birds. -The pheasant is to the Englishman what the ibis was to the Egyptian. - -They are let loose in the woods only when nearly full-grown. When the -covers are full, and a good bag is to be expected, the first of -October is a regular feast-day; a large party is asked, and a variety -of costumes makes the scene picturesque. Red or purple stockings, -knickerbockers of stout cloth or velveteen, a shooting-jacket of rough -heavy material, and stout shoes make up the costume. The ladies -collect after breakfast to see the party start out, a rendezvous is -agreed upon, and luncheon or tea brings them together at either two or -five o'clock, under a sheltering hedge on the side of a wood. The -materials for an ample meal are brought to the appointed place, and a -gay picnic ensues. - -Though shooting is a sport in which more real personal work is done by -those who join in it, and in which skill is a real ingredient, still -it is neither so characteristic nor so picturesque as fox-hunting. -There, a firm seat in the saddle, a good horse, and a determination to -ride straight across country, are all that is needed for the majority -of the field. In shooting much patience is required, besides accuracy -of aim, and a judicious knowledge of when and how to shoot. - -When we consider that hunting is the fashion which Americans are -trying to follow, in a country without foxes, we must concede that -success must be the result of considerable hard study. The fox is an -anise-seed bag, but stone walls and high rail fences often make a -stiffer country to ride over than any to be found abroad. In England -there are no fences. - -As an addition to the art of entertaining, hunting is a very great -boon, and a hunt breakfast at the Westchester Hunting Club is as -pretty a sight as possible. - -In America, the sport began in Virginia in the last century, and no -doubt in our great West and South it will some day become as -recognized an institution as in England. We have room enough for it, -too much perhaps. Shooting should become, from the Adirondacks to the -Mississippi, a recognized sport, as it was once a necessity. If -Americans could devote five months of the year to sport, as the -Englishmen do, they might rival Great Britain. Unfortunately, -Americans are bringing down other kinds of game. We cannot help -thinking, however, that shooting a buck in the Adirondacks is a more -manly sport than shooting one in England. - -No one who has ever had the privilege will forget his first drive -through the delights of an English park. The herds of fallow deer that -haunt the ferny glades beneath the old oaks and beeches, are kept both -for show and for the table; for park-fed venison is a more delicious -morsel than the flesh of the Scotch red deer, that runs wild on the -moor. White, brown, and mottled, with branching antlers which serve -admirably for offensive and defensive weapons, the deer browse in -groups; the does and fawns generally keeping apart from the more -lordly bucks. The park-keeper knows them all, and when one is shot, -the hides, hoofs, and antlers become his perquisites. - -The method of shooting a buck is, however, this: The keeper's -assistant drives the herd in a certain direction previously agreed -upon. The sight is a very pretty one. The keeper stations himself, -rifle in hand, in the fork of some convenient tree along the route. He -takes aim at the intended victim, and at the ominous report the -scared herd scampers away faster than ever, leaving their comrade to -the knives of the keeper. It is very much like going out to shoot a -cow. There is occasionally an attempt to renew the scenes of Robin -Hood and Sherwood Forest, and the hounds are let out, but it is a sham -after all, as they are trained not to kill the deer. The stag in this -instance is given a start, being carried bound in a cart to a certain -point, whence he is released and the chase commences. Thus the same -stag may be hunted a number of times and be none the worse for -it,--which is not the way they do it in the Adirondacks. - -American venison is a higher flavoured meat than English, and should -be only partly roasted before the fire, then cut in slices half-raw, -placed on a chafing-dish with jelly and gravy, and warmed and cooked -before the guest to ensure perfection. - -A Polish officer of distinction has sent me the following account of -hunting in his province:-- - -"We do not hunt the fox as in England. He is shot when met in a drive, -or worried out of his subterranean castle by a special breed of dogs, -the Dachshund, or Texel; or if young cubs are suspected to be in the -hole the exits so far as known are closed, a shaft sunk to the centre, -and the whole brood extinguished. - -"We ride to hounds after hare, and the speed of a fox-hunt is nothing -when compared with a cruise of the hare; for the greyhound, used for -the latter, can beat any fox hound in racing. No one would ever think -of water-killing deer as is done in the Adirondacks, and woe unto him -who kills a doe! - -"The old-fashioned way to kill the wild boar is to let him run at you, -then kneel on one knee holding a hunting knife, or cutlass, -double-edged. The boar infuriated by the dogs rushes at you. If well -directed, the knife enters his breast and heart; if it does not, then -look out. This is what is called pig-sticking in India. Old Emperor -William hunted the boar in the Royal Forests near Berlin, and King -Humbert does the same in the mountains near Rome. - -"Bird hunting, that of snipe, woodcock, partridge, quail, and -waterfowl, is done in the same way as here, excepting the use of duck -batteries. - -"There is very little big game to be found in Europe, that is, in the -civilized parts of it, but in some forests belonging to royalty and -that ilk, the elk, the stag, the bear, and the wild boar, present -themselves as a target, and bison are to be found in Russia. The elk -is purely royal game in Prussia. - -"Southern or Upper Silesia is called the Prussian Ireland, and was -famous for hunting-parties; ladies would join, and we would drive home -with lighted torches attached to our sleighs." - -These accounts of hunting-parties are introduced into the Art of -Entertaining as they each and all contain hints which may be of use to -the future American entertainer. - - - - -THE GAME OF GOLF. - - -As an addition to one's power of entertaining one's self, "golf -affords a wide field of observation for the philosopher and the -student of human nature. To play it aright requires nerve, endurance, -and self-control, qualities which are essential to success in all -great vocations; on the other hand, golf is peculiarly trying to the -temper, although it must be said that when the golfer forgets himself -his outbursts are usually directed against inanimate objects, or -showered upon his own head." How it may take possession of one is well -described in this little poem from the "St. James Gazette:"-- - - "Would you like to see a city given over, - Soul and body, to a tyrannizing game? - If you would, there's little need to be a rover, - For St. Andrews is that abject city's name. - - "It is surely quite superfluous to mention, - To a person who has been here half an hour, - That Golf is what engrosses the attention - Of the people, with an all-absorbing power. - - "Rich and poor alike are smitten with the fever; - 'Tis their business and religion both to play; - And a man is scarcely deemed a true believer - Unless he goes at least a round a day. - - "The city boasts an old and learned college, - Where you'd think the leading industry was Greek; - Even there the favoured instruments of knowledge - Are a driver, and a putter, and a cleek. - - "All the natives and the residents are patrons - Of this royal, ancient, irritating game; - All the old men, all the young men, maids and matrons, - With this passion burn in hard and gem-like flame. - - "In the morning, as the light grows strong and stronger, - You may see the players going out in shoals; - And when night forbids their playing any longer, - They will tell you how they did the different holes. - - "Golf, golf, golf, and golf again, is all the story! - Till despair my overburdened spirit sinks; - Till I wish that every golfer was in glory, - And I pray the sea may overflow the links. - - "Still a slender, struggling ray of consolation - Comes to cheer me, very feeble though it be; - There are two who still escape infatuation, - One's my bosom friend McFoozle, t'other's me. - - "As I write the words McFoozle enters blushing, - With a brassy and an iron in his hand; - And this blow, so unexpected and so crushing, - Is more than I am able to withstand. - - "So now it but remains for me to die, sir. - Stay! There is another course I may pursue. - And perhaps, upon the whole, it would be wiser, - I will yield to fate and be a golfer, too!" - -"The game of golf," says Andrew Lang, its gifted poet and its -historian, "has been described as putting little balls into holes -difficult to find, with instruments which are sadly inadequate and -illy adapted to the purpose." Its learned home is St. Andrews, in -Scotland, although its advocates give it several classic -starting-points. Learned antiquarians seem to think that the name -comes from a Celtic word, meaning club. It is certainly an ancient -game, and some variation of it was known on the Continent under -various names. - -The game requires room. A golf-course of nine holes should be at least -a mile and a half long, and a hundred and twenty feet wide. It is -usual to so lay out the course that the player ends where he began. -All sorts of obstructions are left, or made artificially,--running -water, railway embankments, bushes, ditches, etc. - -The game is played with a gutta-percha ball, about an inch and a -quarter in diameter, and a variety of clubs, with wooden or iron -heads, whose individual use depends on the position in which the ball -lies. It is usual for each player to be followed by a boy, who carries -his clubs and watches his ball, marking it down as it falls. Games are -either singles,--that is, when two persons play against one another, -each having a ball,--or fours, when there are two on each side, -partners playing alternately on one ball. - -The start is made near the club house at a place called the tee. Down -the course, anywhere from two hundred and fifty to five hundred yards -distant, is a level space, fifty feet square, called a putting-green, -and in its centre is a hole about four and a half inches in diameter -and of the same depth. This is the first hole, and the contestant who -puts his ball into it in the fewest number of strokes wins the hole. -As the score is kept by strokes, the ball that is behind is played -first. In this way the players are always together. - -For his first shot from the tee, the player uses a club called the -driver. It has a wooden head and a long, springy, hickory handle. With -this an expert will drive a ball for two hundred yards. It is needless -to say that the beginner is not so successful. After the first shot a -cleek is used; or if the ball is in a bad hole, a mashie; if it is -necessary to loft it, an iron, and so on,--the particular club -depending, as we have said, on the position in which the ball lies. - -The first hole won, the contestants start from a teeing-ground close -by it, and fight for the second hole, and so on around the -course,--the one who has won the most holes being the winner. - -"A fine day, a good match, and a clear green" is the paradise of the -golfer, but it still can be played all the year and even, by the use -of a red ball, when snow is on the ground. In Scotland and athletic -England it is a game for players of all ages, though in nearly all -clubs children are not allowed. It can be played by both sexes. - -A beginner's inclination is to grasp a golf club as he would a cricket -bat, more firmly with the right hand than with the left, or at times -equally firm with both hands. Now in golf, in making a full drive, the -club when brought back must be held firmly with the left hand and more -loosely with the right, because when the club is raised above the -shoulder, and brought round the back of the neck, the grasp of one -hand or the other must relax, and the hand to give way must be the -right hand and not the left. The force of the club must be brought -squarely against the ball. - -The keeping of one's balance is another difficulty. In preparing to -strike, the player bends forward a little. In drawing back his club he -raises, or should raise, his left heel from the ground, and at the end -of the upward swing stands poised on his right foot and the toe or -ball of the left foot. At this point there is danger of his losing his -balance, and as he brings the club down, falling either forward or -backward, and consequently either heeling or toeing the ball, instead -of hitting it with the middle of the face. Accuracy of hitting -depends greatly on keeping a firm and steady hold of the ground with -the toe of the left foot, and not bending the left knee too much. - -To "keep your eye on the ball" sounds an injunction easy to be obeyed, -but it is not always so. In making any considerable stroke, the -player's body makes or should make a quarter turn, and the difficulty -is to keep the head steady and the eye fixed upon the ball while doing -this. - -Like all other games, golf has its technical terms; the -"teeing-ground," "putting," the "high-lofting stroke," the "approach -shot," "hammer-hurling," "topping," "slicing," "hooking," "skidding," -and "foozling" mean little to the uninitiated, but everything to the -golfer. - -Let us copy _verbatim_ the following description of the Links of St. -Andrews, the Elysium of the braw Scots: - -"The Links occupy a crook-necked stretch of land bordered on the east -by the sea and on the left by the railway and by the wide estuary of -the Eden. The course, out and in, is some two miles and a half in -length, allowing for the pursuit of balls not driven quite straight. -Few pieces of land have given so much inexpensive pleasure for -centuries. The first hole is to some extent carpeted by grass rather -longer and rougher than the rest of the links. On the left lie some -new houses and a big hotel; they can only be 'hazards' on the outward -tack to a very wild driver indeed." - -These "hazards" mean, dear reader, that if you and I are stopping at -that big hotel, we may have our eyes put out by a passing ball; small -grief would that be to a golfer! - -"On the right it is just possible to 'heel' the ball over heaps of -rubbish into the sea sand. The natural and orthodox hazards are few. -Everybody should clear the road from the tee; if he does not the ruts -are tenacious. The second shot should either cross or fall short of -the celebrated Swilcan Burn. This tributary of ocean is extremely -shallow, and meanders through stone embankments, hither and thither, -between the tee and the hole. The number of balls that run into it, or -jump in from the opposite bank, or off the old stone footbridge is -enormous! People 'funk' the burn, top their iron shots, and are -engulfed. Once you cross it, the hole whether to right or left is -easily approached. - -"The second hole, when the course is on the left, is guarded near the -tee by the 'Scholar's Bunker,' a sand face which swallows a topped -ball. On the right of the course are whins, much scantier now than of -old; on the left you may get into long grass, and thence into a very -sandy road under a wall, a nasty lie. The hole is sentinelled by two -bunkers and many an approach lights in one or the other. The -putting-green is nubbly and difficult. - -"Driving to the third hole, on the left you may alight in the railway, -or a straight hit may tumble into one of three little bunkers, in a -knoll styled 'the Principal's Nose.' There are more bunkers lying in -wait close to the putting-green. - -"The driver to the fourth hole has to 'carry' some low hills and -mounds; then comes a bunker that yawns almost across the course, with -a small outpost named Sutherlands, which Englishmen profanely desired -to fill up. This is impious. - -"The long bunker has a buttress, a disagreeable round knoll; from -this to the hole is open country if you keep to the right, but it is -whinny. On the left, bunkers and broken ground stretch, and there is a -convenient sepulchre of hope here, and another beyond the hole. - -"As you drive to the fifth hole you may have to clear 'hell,' but -'hell' is not what it was. The first shot should carry you to the -broken spurs of a table land, the Elysian fields, in which there yawn -the Beardies, deep, narrow, greedy bunkers. Beyond the table land -there is a gorge, and beyond it again a beautiful stretch of land and -the putting-green. To the right is plenty of deep bent grass and -gorse. This is a long hole and full of difficulties, the left side -near the hole being guarded by irregular and dangerous bunkers. - -"The sixth or heathery hole has lost most of its heather, but is a -teaser. A heeled ball from the tee drops into the worst whins of the -course in a chaos of steep, difficult hills. A straight ball topped -falls into 'Walkinshaw's Grave,' or if very badly topped into a little -spiteful pitfall; it is the usual receptacle of a well-hit second ball -on its return journey. Escaping 'Walkinshaw's Grave' you have a -stretch of very rugged and broken country, bunkers on the left, bent -grass on the right, before you reach the sixth hole. - -"The next, the high hole, is often shifted. It is usually placed -between a network of bunkers with rough grass immediately beyond it. -The first shot should open the hole and let you see the uncomfortable -district into which you have to play. You may approach from the left, -running the ball up a narrow causeway between the bunkers, but it is -usually attempted from the front. Grief, in any case, is almost -unavoidable." - -It is evident the Scotch pleasure in "contradeectin'" is emphasized in -golf. - -One gets a wholesome sense of invigorating sea air, healthy exercise, -and that delightful smell of the short, fresh grass. One sees "the -beauty of the wild aerial landscape, the delicate tints of sand, and -low, far-off hills, the distant crest of Lochnager, the gleaming -estuary, and the black cluster of ruined towers above the bay, which -make the charm of St. Andrews Links." - -Golf has come to our country, and is becoming a passion. There is a -club at Yonkers and one at Cedarhurst, but that on the Shinnecock -Hills, on Long Island, will probably be the great headquarters of golf -in the United States, as this club owns eighty acres beautifully -adapted to the uses of the game, and has a large club-house, designed -by Stanford White. - -So we may expect an American historian to write an account of this -fine vigorous game, in some future Badminton Library of sports and -pastimes; and we shall have our own dear "fifth hole, which offers -every possible facility to the erratic driver for coming to grief," if -we can be as "contradeectin'" as a Scot. You never hear one word about -victory; this golf literature is all written in the minor key,--but it -is a gay thing to look at. - -The regular golf uniform is a red jacket, which adds much to the -gayety of a green, and has its obvious advantages. - -"Ladies' links should be laid out on the model, though on a smaller -scale, of the long round, containing some short putting-holes, some -larger holes admitting of a drive or two of seventy or eighty yards, -and a few suitable hazards. We venture to suggest seventy or eighty -yards as the average limit of a drive, advisedly not because we doubt -a lady's power to make a longer drive, but because that cannot be well -done without raising the club above the shoulder. Now we do not -presume to dictate, but we must observe that the posture and gestures -requisite for a full swing are not particularly graceful when the -player is clad in female dress. - -"Most ladies put well, and all the better because they play boldly for -the hole, without considering too much the lay of the ground; and -there is no reason why they should not practise and excel in wrist -shots with a lofting-iron or cleek. Their right to play, or rather the -expediency of their playing, the long round is much more doubtful. If -they choose to play at times when the male golfers are feeding or -resting, no one can object; but at other times, must we say it? they -are in the way, just because gallantry forbids to treat them exactly -as men. The tender mercies of the golfer are cruel. He cannot afford -to be merciful, because, if he forbears to drive into the party in -front he is promptly driven into from behind. It is a hard lot to -follow a party of ladies with a powerful driver behind you, if you are -troubled with a spark of chivalry or shyness. - -"As to the ladies playing the long round with men as their partners, -it may be sufficient to say, in the words of a promising young player -who found it hard to decide between flirtation and playing the game, -'It is mighty pleasant, but it is not business.'" - -To learn this difficult game requires months of practice, and great -nerve and talent for it. I shall not attempt to define what is meant -by "dormy," "divot," "foozle," "gobble," "grip," or "gully." "_Mashy_, -a straight-faced niblich," is one of these definitions. - -Horace G. Hutchinson's book on golf is a most entertaining work,--if -for no other reason than that its humour, the pleasant out-of-door -atmosphere, the true enthusiasm for the game, and the illustrations, -which are very well drawn, all make it an addition to one's knowledge -of athletic sports. - -That golf has taken its place amongst the arts of entertaining, we -have no better proof than the very nice description of it in Norris's -novel of "Marcia." This clever writer introduces a scene where "Lady -Evelyn backs the winner" in the following sprightly manner:-- - -"Not many years ago all golfers who dwelt south of the Tweed were -compelled, when speaking of their favourite relaxation, to take up an -apologetic tone; they had to explain with humility, and with the -chilling certainty of being disbelieved, that an immense amount of -experience, dexterity, and self-command are requisite in order to make -sure of hitting a little ball across five hundred yards of broken -ground, and depositing it in a small hole in four or five strokes; but -now that golf links have been established all over England there is no -longer any need to make excuses for one of the finest games that human -ingenuity or the accident of circumstances have ever called into -existence. The theory of the game is simplicity itself,--you have only -to put your ball into a hole in one or less strokes than your -opponent; but the practice is full of difficulty, and what is better -still, full of endless variety, so that you may go on playing golf -from the age of eight to that of eighty, and yet never grow tired of -it. Indeed, the circumstance that gray-haired enthusiasts are to be -seen enjoying themselves thoroughly, and losing their tempers -ludicrously, wherever 'the royal and ancient sport' has taken root, -has caused certain ignorant persons to describe golf contemptuously as -the old gentleman's game. Such criticisms, however, come only from -those who have not attempted to acquire the game." - -We advise all incipient golfers to read "Marcia," and to see how well -golf and love-making can go together. - -Golf has its poetic and humoristic literature; and as we began with -its poetic side we may end with its broadest, latest joke:-- - -Two well-known professional golfers were playing a match. We will call -them Sandy and Jock. On one side of the golf course was a railway, -over which Jock drove his ball, landing it in some long grass. They -both hunted for a long while for the missing ball. Sandy wanted Jock -to give in and say that the ball was lost; but Jock would not consent, -as a lost ball meant a lost hole. They continued to look round, and -Jock slyly dropped another ball, and then came back and cried, "I've -found the ba', Sandy." - -"Ye're a leear," said Sandy, "for here it's in ma pooch." - -We commend also "Famous Golf Links," by Hutchinson as clear and -agreeable reading. - - - - -OF GAMES. - - Come, thou complaisant cards, and cheat me - Of a bad night, and miserable dreams. - SHAKSPEARE. - - 'Tis pleasant, through the loopholes of retreat, - To peep at such a world,--to see the stir - Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd. - COWPER. - - -There is no amusement for a town or country-house, where people like -to stay at home, so perfectly innocent and amusing as games which -require a little brain. - -It is a delightful feature of our modern civilization that books are -cheap, and that the poets are read by every one. That would be a -barren house where we did not find Scott, Byron, Goldsmith, -Longfellow, Tennyson, Browning, Bret Harte, and Jean Ingelow. - -Therefore, there would be little embarrassment should we ask the -members of the circle around the evening lamp to write a parody on -"Evangeline," "Lady Clara Vere de Vere," "Herve Riel," or "The Heathen -Chinee." The result is amusing. - -Amongst games requiring memory and attention, we may mention Cross -Purposes, The Horned Ambassador, I Love my Love with an A, the Game of -the Ring, which is arithmetical, The Deaf Man, The Goose's History, -Story Play, which consists in putting a word into a narrative so -cleverly that it will not readily be guessed, although several may -tell different stories with the word repeated. The best way to play -this is to have some word which is not the word, like "ambassador," if -the word be "banana" for instance, so by thus repeating "ambassador" -the listener maybe baffled. The Dutch Conceit, My Lady's Toilette, -Scheherazade's Ransom are also very good. This last deserves a -description. Three of the company sustain the parts of the Sultan, the -Vizier, and the Princess. The Sultan takes his seat at the end of the -room, and the Vizier then leads the Princess before him with her hands -bound behind her. The Vizier then makes an absurd proclamation that -the Princess, having exhausted all her stories is about to be -punished, unless a sufficient ransom be offered. All the rest of the -company then advance in turn, and propose enigmas which must be solved -by the Sultan or Vizier; sing the first verse of a song, to which the -Vizier must answer with the second verse; or recite any well-known -piece of poetry in alternate lines with the Vizier. Forfeits must be -paid, either by the company when successfully encountered by the -Sultan and Vizier, or by the Vizier when unable to respond to his -opponents; and the game goes on till the forfeits amount to any -specified number on either side. Should the company be victorious and -obtain the greater number of forfeits, the Princess is released and -the Vizier has to execute all the penalties that may be imposed upon -him. If otherwise, the Princess is led to execution. For this purpose -she is seated on a low stool. The penalties for the forfeits, which -should be previously prepared, are written on slips of paper and put -in a basket, which she holds in her hands, tied behind her. The owners -of the forfeits advance, and draw each a slip of paper. As each -person comes forward the Princess guesses who it is, and if right, the -person must pay an additional forfeit, the penalty for which is to be -exacted by the Princess herself. When all the penalties have been -distributed, the hands and eyes of the Princess are released, and she -then superintends the execution of the various punishments that have -been allotted to the company. - -Another very good game is to send one of the company out, and as he -comes in again to address him in the supposed character of General -Scott, the Duke of Wellington, or of some Shakspearean hero. This, -amongst bright people, can be very amusing. The hero thus addressed -must find out who he is himself,--a difficult task for any one to -discover, even with leading questions. - -The Echo is another nice little game. It is played by reciting some -story, which Echo is supposed to interrupt whenever the narrator -pronounces certain words which recur frequently in his narrative. -These words relate to the profession or trade of him who is the -subject of the story. If, for example, the story is about a soldier -the words which would recur most frequently would naturally be -uniform, gaiters, _chapeau bras_, musket, plume, pouch, sword, sabre, -gun, knapsack, belt, sash, cap, powder-flask, accoutrements, and so -on. Each one of the company, with the exception of the person who -tells the story, takes the name of soldier, powder-flask, etc., except -the name accoutrements. When the speaker pronounces one of these -words, he who has taken it for his name, ought, if the word has been -said only once, to pronounce it twice; if it has been said twice, to -pronounce it once. When the word "accoutrements" is uttered the -players, all except the soldier, ought to repeat the word -"accoutrements" either once or twice. - -These games are amusing, as showing how defective a thing is memory, -how apt it is to desert us under fire. It is very interesting to mark -the difference of character exhibited by the players. - -Another very funny game is Confession by a Die, played with cards and -dice. It would look at first like a parody on Mother Church, but it -does not so offend. A person takes some blank cards, and counting the -company, writes down a sin for each. The unlucky sinner when called -upon must not only confess, but, by throwing the dice, also confess as -many sins as they indicate, and do penance for them all. These can, -with a witty leader, be made very amusing. - -The Secretary is another good game. The players sit at a table with -square pieces of paper and pencils, and each one writes his own name, -handing the paper, carefully folded down, to the secretary, who -distributes them, saying, "Character." Then each one writes out an -imaginary character, hands it to the secretary, who says, "Future." -The papers are again distributed, and the writers forecast the future. -Of course the secretary throws in all sorts of other questions, and -when the game is through, the papers are read. They form a curious and -heterogeneous piece of reading; sometimes such curious bits of -character-reading crop out that one suspects complicity. But if -honestly played it is amusing. - -The Traveller's Tour is interesting. One of the party announces -himself as the traveller. He is given an empty bag, and counters, with -numbers on, are distributed amongst the players. Thus if twelve -persons are playing the numbers must count up to twelve,--a set of -ones to be given to one, twos to two, and so on. Then the traveller -asks for information about the places to which he is going. The first -person gives it if he can; if not, the second, and so on. If the -traveller considers it correct information or worthy of notice he -takes from the person one of his counters as a pledge of the -obligation he is under to him. The next person in order takes up the -next question, and so on. After the traveller reaches his destination -he empties his bag and sees to whom he has been indebted for the -greatest amount of information. He then makes him the next traveller. -Of course this opens the door for all sorts of witty rejoinders, -according as the players choose to exaggerate the claims of certain -hotels, and to invent hits at certain watering-places. - -The rhyming game is amusing. "I have a word that rhymes with game." - -_Interlocutor._--"Is it something statesmen crave?" - -_Speaker._--"No, it is not fame." - -_Interlocutor._--"Is it something that goes halt?" - -_Speaker._--"No, it is not lame." - -_Interlocutor._--"Is it something tigers need?" - -_Speaker._--"No, it is not to tame." - -_Interlocutor._--"Is it something we all would like?" - -_Speaker._--"No, it is not a good name." - -_Interlocutor._--"Is it to shoot at duck?" - -_Speaker._--"Yes, and that duck to maim." Such words as "nut," -"thing," "fall," etc., which rhyme easily, are good choices. The two -who play it must be quick-witted. - -The game of Crambo, in which each player has to write a noun on one -piece of paper, and a question on another, is curious. As, for -instance, the drawer gets the word "Africa" and the question "Have you -an invitation to my wedding?" He must write a poem in which he answers -the question and brings in the other word. - -The game of Preferences has had a long and successful career. It is a -very good addition to the furniture of a country parlour to possess a -blank-book which is left lying on the table, in which each guest -should be asked to write out answers to the following questions: - -Who is your favourite hero in history? - -Who is your favourite heroine? - -Who is your favourite king? - -Who is your favourite queen? - -What is your favourite Christian name for a man? - -What is your favourite Christian name for a woman? etc. - -The game of Authors, especially when created by the persons who wish -to play it, is very interesting. The game can be bought and is a very -common one, as perhaps every one knows, but it can be rendered -uncommon by the preparation of the cards among the members of the -family. There are sixty-four cards to be prepared, each bearing the -name of a favourite author and any three of his works. The entire set -is numbered from one to sixty-four. Any four cards containing the name -and works of the same author form a book. - -Or the names of kings and queens and the learned men of their reigns -may be used, instead of authors; it is a very good way to study -history. The popes can be utilized, with their attendant great men, -and after playing the game for a season one has no difficulty in -fixing the environment of the history of an epoch. - -As the numbers affixed to the cards may be purely arbitrary, the -count at the end will fluctuate with great impartiality. The Dickens -cards may count but one, while Tupper will be named sixteen. Carlyle -will only count two, while Artemas Ward will be sixty. King Henry -VIII., who set no small store by himself, may be No. I in the kingly -game, while Edward IV. will be allowed a higher numeral than he was -allotted in life. - -Now we come to a game which interests old and young. None are so -apathetic but they relish a peep behind the dark curtain. The -apple-paring in the fire, the roasted chestnut and the raisin, the -fire-back and the stars, have been interrogated since time began. The -pack of cards, the teacup, the dream-book, the board with mystic -numbers, the Bible and key, have been consulted from time immemorial. -The makers of games have given in their statistics, and they declare -there are no games so popular as those which foretell the future. - -Now this tampering with gruesome things which may lead to bad dreams -is not recommended, but so long as it is done for fun and an evening's -amusement it is not at all dangerous. The riches which are hidden in a -pack of fortune-telling cards are very comforting while they last. -They are endless, they are not taxed, they have few really trying -responsibilities attached, they bring no beggars. They buy all we -want, they are gained without headache or backache, they are inherited -without stain, and lost without regret. Of what other fortune can we -say so much? - -Who is not glad to find a four-leaved clover, to see the moon over his -right shoulder, to have a black cat come to the house? She is sure to -bring good fortune! - -The French have, however, tabularized fortune-telling for us. Their -peculiar ability in arranging ceremonials and _fetes_, and their -undoubted genius for tactics and strategy, show that they might be -able to foresee events. Their ingenuity, in all technical -contrivances, is an additional testimony in the right direction, and -we are not surprised that they have here, as is their wont, given us -the practical help which we need in fortune-telling. - -Mademoiselle Lenormand, the sorceress who foretold Napoleon's -greatness and to many of the great people of France their downfall and -misfortunes, has left us thirty-six cards in which we can read the -decrees of fate. Lenormand was a clever sybil. She knew how to mix -things, and throw in the inevitable bad and the possible good so as at -least to amuse those who consulted her. - -In this game, which can be bought at any bookstore, the _cavalier_, -for instance, is a messenger of good fortune, the clover leaf a -harbinger of good news, but if surrounded by clouds it indicates great -pain, but if No. 2 lies near No. 26 or 28 the pain will be of short -duration, and so on. - -Thus Mlle. Lenormand tells fortunes still, although she has gone to -the land of certainty, and has herself found out whether her symbols -and emblems and her combinations really did draw aside the curtain of -the future with invisible strings. Amateur sybils playing this game -can be sure that they add to the art of entertaining. - -The cup of tea, and the mysterious wanderings of the grounds around -the cup, is used for divination by the old crone in an English -farmhouse, while the Spanish gypsy uses chocolate grounds for the same -purpose. That most interesting of tragic sybils, Norna of the Fitful -Head, used molten lead. - -Cards from the earliest antiquity have been used to tell fortunes. -Fortuna, courted by all nations, was in Greek Tyche, or the goddess of -chance. She differed from Destiny, or Fate, in so far as that she -worked without law, giving or taking at her own good pleasure. Her -symbols were those of mutability, a ball, a wheel, a pair of wings, a -rudder. The Romans affirmed that when she entered their city she threw -off her wings and shoes, determined to live with them forever. She -seems to have thought better of it, however. She was the sister of the -Parcae, or Fates, those three who spin the thread of life, measure it, -and cut it off. The power to tell fortunes by the hand is easily -learned from Desbarolles' book, is a very popular accomplishment, and -never fails to amuse the company and interest the individual. - -It must not be made, however, of too much importance. It never amuses -people to be warned that they may expect an early and violent death. - -Then comes Merelles, or Blind Men's Morris, which can be played on a -board or on the ground, but which now finds itself reduced to a -parlour game. This takes two players. American Bagatelle can be played -alone or with an antagonist. Chinese puzzles, which are infinitely -amusing, and all the great family of the Sphinx, known as puzzles, are -of infinite service to the retired, the invalid, and weary people for -whom the active business of life is at an end. - -We may describe one of these games as an example. It is called The -Blind Abbot and his Monks. It is played with counters. Arrange eight -external cells of a square so that there may be always nine in each -row, though the whole number may vary from eighteen to thirty-six. A -convent in which there were nine cells was occupied by a blind abbot -and twenty-four monks, the abbot lodging in the centre cell and the -monks in the side cells, three in each, giving a row of nine persons -on each side of the building. The abbot suspecting the fidelity of his -brethren often went out at night and counted them. When he found nine -in each row, the old man counted his beads, said an _Ave_, and went to -bed contented. The monks, taking advantage of his failing sight, -contrived to deceive him, so that four could go out at night, yet have -nine in a row. How did they do it? - -The next night, emboldened by success, the monks returned with four -visitors, and then arranged them nine in a row. The next night they -brought in four more belated brethren, and again arranged them nine in -a row, and again four more. Finally, when the twelve clandestine monks -had departed, and six monks with them, the remainder deceived the -abbot again by presenting a row of nine. Try it with the counters, and -see how they so abused the privileges of conventual seclusion! - -Then try quibbles: "How can I get the wine out of a bottle if I have -no corkscrew and must not break the glass or make a hole in it or the -cork?" - -The _raconteur_, or story-teller, is a potent force. Any one who can -memorize the stories of Grimm, or Hans Christian Anderson, or -Browning's "Pied Piper," or Ouida's "Dog of Flanders," or Dr. Holmes' -delightful "Punch Bowl," and tell these in a natural sort of way is a -blessing. But this talent should never be abused. The man who, in cold -blood, fires off a long poetical quotation at a dinner, or makes a -speech when he is not asked, in defiance of the goose-flesh which is -creeping down his neighbours' backs, is a traitor to honour and -religion, and should be dragged to execution with his back to the -horses, like a Nihilist. It is only when these extempore talents can -be used without alarming people that they are useful or endurable. - -Perhaps we might make our Christmas Holidays a little more gay. There -are old English and German customs beyond the mistletoe, and the tree, -and the rather faded legend of Santa Claus. There are worlds of -legendary lore. We might bring back the Leprechaun, the little -fairy-man in red, who if you catch him will make you happy forever -after, and who has such a strange relationship to humanity that at -birth and death the Leprechaun must be tended by a mortal. To follow -up the Banshee and the Brownie, to light the Yule log, to invoke the -Lord of Misrule, above all to bring back the waits or singing-boys who -come under the window with an old carol, and the universal study of -symbolism,--all this is useful at Christmastide, when the art of -entertaining is ennobled by the song "Glory to God in the highest, and -on earth peace, good-will toward men." - -The supper-table has unfortunately fallen into desuetude, probably on -account of our exceedingly late dinners. We sup out, we sup at a ball, -but rarely have that informal and delightful meal which once wound up -every evening. - -Mrs. Elizabeth Montague, in her delightful letters, talks about the -"Whisk, and the Quadrille parties, with a light supper," which amused -the ladies of her day. We still have the "Whisk," but what has become -of _lansquenet_, quadrille basset, piquet, those pretty and courtly -games? - -Whist! Who shall pretend to describe its attractions? What a relief to -the tired man of affairs, to the woman who has no longer any part in -the pageant of society! What pleasure in its regulating, shifting -fortunes. We have seen, in its parody on life, that holding the best -cards, even the highest ones, does not always give us the game. We -have noticed that with a poor hand, somebody wins fame, success, and -happiness. We have all felt the injustice of the long suit, which has -baffled our best endeavours. We play our own experience over again, -with its faithless kings and queens. The knave is apt to trip us up, -on the green cloth as on the street. - -So long as cards do not lead to gambling, they are innocent enough. -The great passion for gambling is behind the game of boaston, played -appropriately for beans. We all like to accumulate, to believe that we -are fortune's favourite. What matter if it be only a few more beans -than one's neighbour? - -That is a poorly furnished parlour which has not a chess table in one -corner, a whist table properly stocked, and a little solitaire table -for Grandma. Cribbage and backgammon boards, cards of every variety, -bezique counters and packs, and the red and white champions for the -hard-fought battle-field of chess, should be at hand. - -Playing cards made their way through Arabia from India to Europe, -where they first arrived about the year 1370. They carried with them -the two rival arts, engraving and painting. They were the _avants -couriers_ of engraving on wood and metal, and of the art of printing. - -Cards, begun as the luxuries of kings and queens, became the necessity -of the gambler, the solace of all who like games. They have been one -of the worst curses and one of the greatest blessings of poor human -nature. - - "When failing health, or cross event, - Or dull monotony of days, - Has brought us into discontent - Which darkens round us like a haze"-- -then the arithmetical progression of a game has sometimes saved the -reason. They are a priceless boon to failing eyesight. - -Piquet, a courtly game, was invented by Etienne Vignoles, called La -Hire, one of the most active soldiers of the reign of Charles VII. -This brave soldier was an accomplished cavalier, deeply imbued with a -reverence for the manners and customs of chivalry. Cards continued -from his day to follow the whim of the court, and to assume the -character of the period, through the regency of Marie de Medicis, the -time of Anne of Austria and of Louis XIV. The Germans were the first -people to make a pack of cards assume the form of a scholastic -treatise; the king, queen, knight, and knave tell of English customs, -manners, and nomenclature. - -The highly intellectual game of Twenty Questions can be played by -three or four people or by a hundred. It is an unfailing delight by -the wood fire in the remote house in the wood, or by the open window -looking out on the lordly Hudson of a summer's night. It only needs -that one bright mind shall throw the ball, and half a dozen may catch. -Mr. Lowell once said there was no subject so erudite, no quotation so -little known, that it could not be reached in twenty questions. - -But we are not all as bright as James Russell Lowell. We can, however, -all ask questions and we can all guess; it is our Yankee privilege. -The game of Twenty Questions has led to the writing of several books. -The best way to begin is, however, to choose a subject. Two persons -should be in the secret. The questioner begins: Is it animal, -vegetable or mineral? Is it a manufactured object? Ancient or modern? -What is its shape, size and colour? What is its use? Where is it now? -The object of the answerer is of course to baffle, to excite -curiosity; it is a mental battledore and shuttlecock. - -It is strange that the pretty game of croquet has gone out of favour. -It is still, however, to be seen on some handsome lawns. Twenty years -ago it inspired the following lines:-- - -CROQUET. - - "A painter must that poet be - And lay with brightest hues his palette - Who'd be the bard of Croquet'rie - And sing the joys of hoop and mallet. - - "Given a level lawn in June - And six or eight, enthusiastic, - Who never miss their hoops, or spoon, - And are on duffers most sarcastic; - - "Given the girl whom you adore-- - And given, too, that she's your side on, - Given a game that's not soon o'er, - And ne'er a bore the lawn espied on; - - "Given a claret cup as cool - As simple Wenham Ice can make it, - Given a code whose every rule - Is so defined that none can break it; - - "Given a very fragrant weed-- - Given she doesn't mind your smoking, - Given the players take no heed - And most discreetly keep from joking; - - "Given all these, and I proclaim, - Be fortune friendly or capricious, - Whether you win or lose the game, - You'll find that croquet is delicious." - - - - -ARCHERY. - - "The stranger he made no muckle ado, - But he bent a right good bow, - And the fattest of all the herds he slew - Forty good yards him fro: - 'Well shot! well shot!' quoth Robin Hood." - - "Aim at the moon, if you ambitious are, - And failing that, you may bring down a star." - - -Fashion has brought us again this pretty and romantic pastime, which -has filled the early ballads with many a picturesque figure. Now on -many a lawn may be seen the target and the group in Lincoln green. -Indeed, it looks as if archery were to prove a very formidable rival -to lawn tennis. - -The requirements of archery are these: First, a bow; secondly, arrows; -thirdly, a quiver, pouch, and belt; fourthly, a grease pot, an -arm-guard or brace, a shooting-glove, a target and a scoring-card. - -The bow is the most important article in archery, and also the most -expensive. It is usually from five to six feet in length, made of a -simple piece of yew or of lance-wood and hickory glued together back -to back. The former is better for gentlemen, the latter for ladies, as -it is adapted for the short, sharp, pull of the feminine arm. The wood -is gradually tapered, and at each end is a tip of horn; the one from -the upper end being longer than the other or lower end. The strength -of bows is marked in pounds, varying from twenty-five to forty pounds -in strength for ladies, for gentlemen from fifty to eighty pounds. One -side of the bow is flat, called the back, the other, called the belly, -is rounded. Nearly in the middle, where the hand should take hold, it -is lapped round with velvet, and that part is called the handle. In -each of the tips of the horns is a notch for the string, called the -nock. - -Bow strings are made of hemp or flax, the former being the better -material, for though at first they stretch more, yet they wear longer -and stand a harder pull, and are, as well, more elastic in the -shooting. In applying a fresh string to a bow, be careful in opening -it not to break the composition that is on it. Cut the tie, take hold -of the eye which will be found ready worked at one end, let the other -part hang down, and pass the eye over the upper end of the bow. If for -a lady, it may be held from two to two and a half inches below the -nock; if for a gentleman, half an inch lower, varying it according to -the length and strength of the bow. Then run your hand along the side -of the bow and string to the bottom nock. Turn it around that and fix -it by the noose, called the timber noose, taking care not to untwist -the string in making it. This noose is simply a turn back and twist, -without a knot. When strung a lady's bow will have the string about -five inches from the belly, and a gentleman's about half an inch more. -The part opposite the handle is bound round with waxed silk in order -to prevent its being frayed by the arrow. As soon as a string becomes -too soft and the fibres too straight, rub it with beeswax and give it -a few turns in the proper direction, so as to shorten it, and twist -its strands a little tighter. A spare string should always be provided -by the shooter. - -Arrows are differently shaped by various makers; some being of uniform -thickness throughout, while others are protuberant in the middle; some -again are larger at the point than at the feather end. They are -generally made of white deal, with joints of iron or brass riveted on, -and have a piece of heavy wood spliced to the deal, between it and the -point, by which their flight is improved. At the other end a piece of -horn is inserted, in which is a notch for the string. They are armed -with three feathers glued on, one of which is a different colour from -the others, and is intended to mark the proper position of the arrow -when placed on the string, this one always pointing from the bow. -These feathers, properly applied, give a rotary motion to the arrow, -which causes its flight to be straight. They are generally from the -wing of the turkey or the goose. The length and weight of the arrows -vary, the latter in England being marked in sterling silver coin and -stamped in the arrow in plain figures. It is usual to paint a crest or -a monogram or distinguishing rings on the arrow, just between the -feathers by which they may be known in shooting at the target. - -The quiver is merely a tin case painted green, intended for the -security of the arrows when not in use. The pouch and belt are worn -round the waist, the latter containing those arrows which are actually -being shot. A pot to hold grease for touching the glove and string, -and a tassel to wipe the arrows are hung at the belt. The grease is -composed of beef suet and wax melted together. The arm is protected -from the blow of the string by the brace, a broad guard of strong -leather buckled on by two straps. A shooting-glove, also of thin tubes -of leather, is attached to the wrist by three flat pieces, ending in -a circular strap buckled around it. This glove prevents the soreness -of the fingers, which soon comes after using the bow without it. - -The target consists of a circular mat of straw, covered with canvas -painted in a series of circles. It is usually from three feet six -inches to four feet in diameter, the centre is gilt, and called the -gold; the ring about it is called the red, after which comes the inner -white, then the black, and finally the outer white. These targets are -mounted on triangular stands, from fifty to a hundred yards apart; -sixty being the usual shooting distance. - -A scoring-card is provided with columns for each colour, which are -marked with a pin. The usual score for a gold hit, or the bull's-eye, -is 9, the red 7, inner white 5, black 3, and outer white, 1. - -To string the bow properly it should be taken by the handle in the -right hand. Place one end on the ground, resting in the hollow of the -right foot, keeping the flat side of the bow, called the back, toward -your person. The left foot should be advanced a little, and the right -placed so that the bow cannot slip sideways. Place the heel of the -left hand upon the upper limb of the bow, below the eye of the string. -Now while the fingers and thumb of the left hand slide the eye towards -the notch in the horn, and the heel pushes the limb away from the -body, the right hand pulls the handle toward the person and thus -resists the action of the left, by which the bow is bent, and at the -same time the string is slipped into the nock, as the notch is termed. -Take care to keep the three outer fingers free from the string, for if -the bow should slip from the hand, and the string catch them, they -will be severely pinched. In shooting in frosty weather, warm the bow -before the fire or by friction with a woollen cloth. If the bow has -been lying by for a long time, it should be well rubbed with boiled -linseed oil before using it. - -To unstring the bow hold it as in stringing, then press down the upper -limb exactly as before, and as if you wished to place the eye of the -string in a higher notch. This will loose the string and liberate the -eye, when it must be lifted out of the notch by the forefinger, and -suffered to slip down the limb. - -Before using the bow hold it in a perpendicular direction, with the -string toward you, and see if the line of the string cuts the middle -of the bow. If not, shift the eye and noose of the string to either -side, so as to make the two lines coincide. This precaution prevents a -very common cause of defective shooting, which is the result of an -uneven string throwing the arrow on one side. After using it unstring -it, and at a large shooting-party unloose your bow after every round. -Some bows get bent into very unmanageable shapes. - -The general management of the bow should be on the principle that damp -injures it, and that any loose floating ends interfere with its -shooting. It should therefore be kept well varnished, and in a -waterproof case, and it should be carefully dried after shooting in -damp weather. If there are any ends hanging from the string cut them -off close, and see that the whipping, in the middle of the string, is -close and well-fitting. The case should be hung up against a dry, -internal wall, not too near the fire. In selecting your bow be careful -that it is not too strong for your power, and that you can draw the -arrow to its head without any trembling of the hand. If this cannot be -done after a little practice, the bow should be changed for a weaker -one; for no arrow will go true, if it is discharged by a trembling -hand. If an arrow has been shot into the target on the ground, be -particularly careful to withdraw it by laying hold close to its head, -and by twisting it around as it is withdrawn, in the direction of its -axis. Without this precaution it may be easily bent or broken. - -In shooting at the target the first thing is to nock the arrow, that -is, to place it properly on the string. In order to effect this, take -the bow in the left hand, with the string toward you, the upper limb -being toward the right. Hold it horizontally while you take the arrow -by the middle; pass it on the under side of the string and the upper -side of the bow, till the head reaches two or three inches past the -left hand. Hold it there with the forefinger or thumb, while you -remove the right hand down to the neck; turn the arrow till the cock -feather comes uppermost, then pass it down the bow, and fix it on the -working part of the string. In doing this all contact with the -feathers should be avoided, unless they are rubbed out of place, when -they may be smoothed down by passing them through the hand. - -The body should be at right angles with the target, but the face must -be turned over the left shoulder, so as to be opposed to it. The feet -must be flat on the ground, with the heels a little apart, the left -foot turned toward the mark. The head and chest inclined a little -forward so as to present a full bust, but not bent at all below the -waist. Draw the arrow to the full length of the arm, till the hand -touches the shoulder, then take aim. The loosing should be quick, and -the string must leave the fingers smartly and steadily. The bow-head -must be as firm as a vise, no trembling allowed. - -The rules of an Archery Club are usually that a Lady Paramount be -annually elected; that there be a President, Secretary, and Treasurer; -that all members intending to shoot shall appear in the uniform of the -club, and that a fine shall be imposed for non-attendance. - -The Secretary sends out cards at least a week before each day of -meeting, acquainting members with the place and hour. - -There are generally four prizes for each meeting, two for each sex, -the first for numbers, the second for hits. No person is allowed to -take both on the same day. A certain sum of money is voted to the Lady -Paramount, for prizes for each meeting. - -In case of a tie for hits, numbers decide, and in case of a tie for -numbers, hits decide. The decision of the Lady Paramount is final. - -There is also a challenge prize, and a commemorative ornament is -presented to the winner of this prize. - -The distance for shooting is sixty or one hundred yards, and five-feet -targets are used. - -The dress or uniform of the club is decided by the Lady Paramount. - -The expenses of archery are not great, about the same as lawn tennis, -although a great many arrows are lost in the course of the season. -Bows and other paraphernalia last a long time. The lady archers are -apt to feel a little lame after the first two or three essays, but -they should practise a short time every morning, and always in a loose -waist or jacket. It will be found a very healthy and strengthening -practice and pastime. - -We must not judge of the merits of ancient bowmen from the practice of -archery in the present day. There are no such distances now assigned -for the marks as we find mentioned in old histories or poetic legends, -nor such precision, even at short lengths, in the direction of the -arrow. Few, if any, modern archers in long shooting reach four hundred -yards; or in shooting at a mark exceed eighty or a hundred. Archery -has been since the invention of gunpowder followed as a pastime only. -It is decidedly the most graceful game that can be practised, and the -legends of Sherwood Forest, of Maid Marion, Little John, Friar Tuck, -and the Abbot carry us back into the fragrant heart of the forest, and -bring back memories which are agreeable to all who have in them a drop -of Saxon blood. - -The usual dress is the Lincoln green of Robin Hood and his merry men, -and at Auburn in New York they have a famous club and shooting ground, -over the gate of which is painted this motto:-- - - "What is hit is history, - And what is missed is mystery." - -The traveller still sees in the Alpine Tyrol, and in some parts of -Switzerland, bands of archers who depend on the bow and arrow for -their game. But there is not that skill or that poetry attached to the -sport which made Locksley try conclusions with Hubert, in the presence -of Prince John, as we read in the immortal pages of Ivanhoe. - -The prize was to be a bugle horn mounted with silver, a silken baldric -richly ornamented, having on it a medallion of Saint Hubert, the -patron of sylvan sport. Had Robin Hood been beaten he would have -yielded up bow, baldric, and quiver to the provost of the sports; as -it was, however, he let fly his arrow, and it lighted upon that of his -competitor, which it split to shivers. - - - - -THE SEASON, BALLS, AND RECEPTIONS. - - "Good-night to the season! the dances, - The fillings of hot little rooms, - The glancings of rapturous glances, - The flarings of fancy costumes, - The pleasures which fashion makes duties, - The phrasings of fiddles and flutes, - The luxury of looking at beauties, - The tedium of talking to mutes, - The female diplomatists, planners - Of matches for Laura and Jane, - The ice of her Ladyship's manners! - The ice of his Lordship's champagne." - - -The season in London extends from May to August, often longer if -Parliament is in session. In Paris it is from May to the _Grand Prix_, -when it is supposed to end, about the 20th of June. In New York and -Washington it is all winter, from November 1st to Lent, with good -Episcopalians, and from November to May with the rest of mankind. - -It then begins again in July, with the people who go to Newport and to -Bar Harbor, and keeps up until September, when comes in Tuxedo and the -gayety of Long Island, and the Hudson. Indeed, with the gayety of -country-house life, hunting, lawn tennis and driving, it is hard to -say when the American season ends. - -There is one sort of entertainment which is a favourite everywhere and -very convenient. It is the afternoon reception or party by daylight. -The gas is lighted, the day excluded, the hostess and her guests are -in beautiful toilets; their friends come in street dresses and -bonnets; their male friends in frock coats. This is one of the -anomalies of fashion. These entertainments are very large, and a -splendid collation is served. The form of invitation is simply-- - - MRS. BROWNTON at home - Thursday, from 3 to 6. - -and unless an R. S. V. P. is appended, no reply is expected. These -receptions are favourites with housekeepers, as they avoid the -necessity of keeping the servants up at night. - -The drawback to this reception is that, in our busy world of America, -very few men can spare the time to call in the daytime, so the -attendance is largely feminine. - -On entering, the guest places a card on the table, or, if she cannot -be present, she should send a card in an envelope. - -After these entertainments, which are really parties, a lady should -call. They are different things entirely from afternoon tea, after -which no call is expected. If the reception is given to some -distinguished person, the lady stands beside her guest to present all -the company to him or her. - -If on the card the word "Music" is added, the guests should be -punctual, as, doubtless, they are to be seated, and that takes time. -No lady who gives a _musicale_ should invite more than she can seat -comfortably; and she should have her rooms cool, and her lights soft -and shaded. - -People with weak eyes suffer dreadfully from a glare of gas, and when -music is going on they cannot move to relieve themselves. The hostess -should think of all this. Who can endure the mingled misery of a hot -room, an uncomfortable seat, a glare of gas, and a pianoforte solo? - -A very sensible reformation is now in progress in regard to the -sending of invitations and the answering of the same. The post is now -freely used as a safe and convenient medium, and no one feels offended -if an invitation arrives with a two-cent stamp on the envelope. There -is no loss of caste in sending an invitation by post. - -Then comes the ball, or, as they always say in Europe, the dance, -which is the gayest of all things for the _debutante_. The popular -form for an invitation to an evening party is as follows:-- - - MRS. HAMMOND - Requests the pleasure of - MR. and MRS. NORTON'S company - on Tuesday evening, December 23, at 9 o'clock. - R. S. V. P. Dancing. - -The card of the _debutante_, if the ball is given for one, is -enclosed. - -If a hostess gives her ball at some public place, like Delmonico's, -she has but little trouble. The compliment is not the same as if she -gave it in her own house, however. If there is room, a ball in a -private house is much more agreeable, and a greater honour to the -guest. - -Gentlemen who have not an acquaintance should be presented to the -young dancing set; but first, of course, to the _chaperon_. As, -however, the hostess cannot leave her post while receiving, she should -have two or three friends to help her. Great care should be taken that -there be no wall-flowers, no neglected girls. The non-dancers in an -American ball are like the non-Catholics in a highly doctrinal sermon: -they are nowhere, pushed into a corner where there is perhaps a -draught, and the smell of fried oysters. Such is the limbo of the -woman of forty or over, who in Europe would be the belle, the person -just beginning to have a career. For it is too true that the woman who -has learned something, who is still beautiful, the woman who has -maturity and experience, is pushed to the wall in America, while in -Europe she is courted and admired. Society holds out all its -attractive distractions and comforts to such a woman in Europe; in -America it keeps everything, even its comforts, for the very young. - -The fact that American ballrooms, or rather the parlours of our -ordinary houses, are wholly disproportioned to the needs of society, -has led to the giving of balls at Delmonico's and other public places. -If these are under proper patronage there is no reason why they should -not be as entertaining, as exclusive, and as respectable as a ball at -home. Any hostess or group of managers should, if they give up a ball -at home and use the large accommodations of Delmonico or the Assembly -Rooms, certainly consider the claims of chaperons and mammas who must -wearily sit through the German. It is to be feared that attention to -the mamma is not yet a grace in which even her daughter excels. Young -men who wish to marry mademoiselle had better pay her mother the -compliment of getting her a seat, and social leaders should also show -her the greatest attention, not alone from the selfish reason which -the poet commemorates:-- - - "Philosophy has got a charm,-- - I thought of Martin Tupper,-- - And offering mamma my arm, - I took her down to supper. - - "I gave her Pommery, _Cote d'Or_, - Which seethed in rosy bubbles; - I called this fleeting life a bore, - The world a sea of troubles." - -It is to be feared that the life of a _chaperon_ in America is not a -bed of roses, even if softened by all these attentions. - -Kept up late, pushed into a corner, the mother of a society girl -becomes only a sort of head-chambermaid. Were she in Europe, she would -be the person who would receive the compliments and the attention and -be asked to dance in the German. - -A competent critic of our manners spoke of this in the following -sensible words:-- - -"The evils arising from the excessive liberty permitted to American -girls cannot be cured by laws. If we ever root them out we must begin -with the family life, which must be reformed. For young people, -parental authority is the only sure guide. Coleridge well said that he -who was not able to govern himself must be governed by others; and -experience has shown us that the children of civilized parents are as -little able to govern themselves as the children of savages. The -liberty or license of our youth will have to be curtailed, as our -society is becoming more complex and artificial, like older societies -in Europe. The children will have to approximate to them in status, -and parents will have to waken to a sense of their responsibilities, -and subordinate their ambitions and their pleasures to their duties." -Mothers should go out more with their daughters, join in their -pleasures, and never permit themselves to be shelved. - -Society is in a transition state in America. In one or more cities of -the West and South it is considered proper for a young man to call for -a young girl, and drive with her alone to a ball. In Northern cities -this is considered very bad form. In Europe it would be considered a -vulgar madness, and a girl's character compromised. Therefore it is -better for the mother to keep her rightful place as guardian, -_chaperon_, friend, no matter how she is treated. - -Women are gifted with so much tact and so intuitive a faculty, that in -the conduct of fashionable life they need but few hints. - -The art of entertaining should be founded first, on good sense, a -quiet considerateness, a good heart, a spirit of friendliness; next, a -consideration of what is due to others and what is due to one's self. -There is always a social conscience in one's organization, which will -point aright; but the outward performance of conventional rules can -never be thoroughly learned, unless the heart is well-bred. - -Many ladies are now introducing dancing at crowded day receptions and -teas. Where people are coming and going this is objectionable, as the -hostess is expected to do too much, and the guests being in street -dress, while the hostess and her dancers are in low evening dress, the -appearance of the party is not ornamental. - -Evening parties are far more formal, and require the most elaborate -dress. Every lady who can wear a low-necked dress should do so. The -great drawback in New York is now the ridiculous lateness of the -hour--eleven or twelve--at which the guests arrive. - -If a card is written,-- - - MRS. BROWN at home Tuesday evening, - -some sticklers for etiquette say that she should not put R. S. V. P. -on her card. - -If she wishes an answer, she should say,-- - - MRS. BROWN - requests the pleasure of - MR. and MRS. CAMPBELL'S company. - R. S. V. P. - -Perhaps the latter is better form. It is more respectful. The "At -Home" can be used for large and informal receptions, where an -individual acceptance is not required. - -Garden parties are becoming very fashionable at watering-places, in -rural cities, and at country houses which are accessible to a town. No -doubt the garden party is a troublesome affair in a climate so -capricious as ours. The hostess has to be prepared for a sudden -shower, and to have two tables of refreshments. The effort to give the -out-of-door plays in this country, as in England, has often been -frustrated by a sudden shower, as at Mrs. Stevens' palace at Castle -Point. It is curious that they can and do give them in England, where -it always rains. However, these entertainments and hunting remain -rather as visitors than as old and recognized institutions. - -Americans all dance well, and are always glad to dance. Whether it be -assembly, hunt ball, or private party, the German cotillion finishes -the bail. It is an allegory of society in its complicated and -bewildering complications, its winding and unwinding of the tangled -chain. - -In every large city a set arises whose aim is to be exclusive. -Sometimes this privilege seems to be pushed too far. Often one is -astonished at the black sheep who leap into the well-defended -enclosures. In London, formerly, an autocratic set of ladies, well -known as Almacks, turned out the Duke of Wellington because he came in -a black cravat. In our republican country perpetual Almacks arise, -offensive and defensive,--a state of things which has its advantages -and disadvantages. It keeps up an interest in society. It is like the -fire in the engine: it makes the train move, even if it sends out -smoke and cinders which get into people's eyes and make them weep. It -is a part of the inevitable friction which accompanies the best -machinery; and if they have patience, those who are left out one -winter will be the inside aristocrats of the next, and can leave -somebody else out. - -Quadrilles, the Lancers, and occasionally a Virginia Reel, are -introduced to make the modern ball more interesting, and enable people -who cannot bear the whirl of the waltz to dance. The elderly can dance -a quadrille without loss of breath or dignity. Indeed, the Americans -are the only people who relegate the dance to the young alone. In -Europe the old gray-head, the old mustache, leads the German. -Ambassadors and generals, princes and potentates, go spinning around -with gray-haired ladies until they are seventy. Grandmothers dance -with their grandsons. Socrates learned to dance. In Europe it is the -elderly woman who receives the most flattering invitations to lead -the German. An ambassadress of fifty would be very much astonished if -the prince did not ask her to dance. - -The saltatory art is like the flight of a butterfly,--hard to -describe, impossible to follow. The _valse a deux temps_ keeps its -precedence in Europe as the favourite measure, varied with galop, -polka, and polka mazourka. We add, in America, Dancing in the Barn, -which is really a Spanish dance. - -The _Pavanne_ is worthy of study, and the _Minuet de la Cour_ is a -stately and beautiful thing, quite worthy of being learned, if it only -teaches our women how to make a courtesy. - -Each leader of the German is a potentate; he leads his troops through -new evolutions, and into combinations so vast, varied, and changeful -that it is impossible to do more than hint at them. - -The proper name for a private ball is "a dance." In London one never -talks of balls; it is always "a dance." Although supper is served -generally at a buffet, yet some leaders, with large houses, are -introducing little tables, which are more agreeable, but infinitely -inconvenient. The comfort, however, of being able to sit while eating, -and the fact that a party of four or six may enjoy their supper -together would certainly determine the question as to its -agreeableness. This is a London fashion, one set succeeding another at -the same table. It can only be carried out, however, in a very large -house or public place. The ball suppers in New York--indeed, all over -America--are very "gorgeous feeds" compared with those one sees in -Europe. The profusion of flowers, the hot oysters, boned turkey, -terrapin, and canvas-back duck, the salmon, the game patties, salads, -ices, jellies, and creams, all crowded in, sweetbreads and green peas, -_filet de boeuf_, constant cups of _bouillon_,--one feels Carlyle's -internal rat gnawing as one reads of them,--the champagne, the punch, -the fine glass, choice china, the drapery of German looms, the Queen -Anne silver, the porcelain of Sevres and Dresden, the beauty of the -women, the smart dressing, make the ball supper an elegant, an -amazing, a princely sort of sight, saving that princes do not give -such feasts,--only Americans. - - - - -WEDDINGS. - - "Rice and slippers, slippers and rice! - Quaint old symbols of all that's nice - In a world made up of sugar and spice, - With a honeymoon always shining; - A world where the birds keep house by twos, - And the ring-dove calls, and the stock-dove coos, - And maids are many, and men may choose, - And never shall love go pining!" - - -If there were no weddings, there would be no art of entertaining. It -is the key-note, the initial letter, the "open sesame," of the great -business of society. Therefore certain general and very, perhaps, -unnecessary hints as to the conduct of weddings in all countries may -not be out of place here. - -In London a wedding in high life--or, as the French call it, -"higlif"--is a very sweeping affair. If we were to read the -descriptions in the "Court Journal" of one wedding trousseau alone, -furnished to a royal princess, or to Lady Gertrude Somebody, we should -say with Fielding that "dress is the principal accomplishment of men -and women." As for the wedding-cake which is built at Gunter's, it is -a sight to see,--almost as big as Mont Blanc. - -The importance of Gunter is assured by the "Epicure's Almanac," -published in 1815; and for many years this firm supplied the royal -family. When George III. was king, the royal dukes stopped to eat -Gunter's pies, in gratitude for the sweet repasts furnished them in -childhood; but now the Buzzards, of 197 Oxford Street, also are -specialists in wedding-cakes. - -Leigh Hunt, in one of his essays, described one Trumbull Walker as -"the artist who confined himself to that denomination," meaning -wedding-cake. His mantle fell on the Buzzards. - -This enormous cake, and the equally enormous bouquet are the chief -distinctive marks in which a London wedding differs from ours. To be -legal, unless by special license, weddings in England must be -celebrated before twelve o'clock. The reason given for this law is -that before 1820 gentlemen were supposed to be drunk after that hour, -and not responsible for what they promised at the altar. - -In France, a singular difference of dress on the part of the groom -exists. He always wears a dress-coat and white cravat, as do all his -ushers and immediate friends. It looks very strange to English and -American eyes. - -How does a wedding begin? As for the premonitory symptoms, they are in -the air for several weeks. It is whispered about amongst the -bridesmaids; it gets into the papers. It would be easy to write a -volume, and it would be a useful volume if it brought conviction to -the hearts of the offenders, of the wrong done to young ladies by the -newspapers who assume, without authority, to publish the news of an -engagement. Many a match has been broken off by such a premature -surmise, and the happiness of one or more persons injured for life. - -Young people like to approach this most important event of their lives -in a mutual confidence and secrecy; consequently society newspapers -should be very careful how they either report an engagement, or -declare that it is off. Sometimes rumors prejudicial to the gentleman -are circulated without sufficient reason, and of course much -ill-feeling is engendered. - -The first intimation of an engagement should come from the bride's -mother, and the young bride fixes the day of her wedding herself. Then -the father and mother, or guardians, of the young lady issue cards, -naming the day and hour of the wedding. - -Brides often give the attendant maidens their dresses; or if they do -not choose to do this, they suggest what they shall wear. - -Six ushers generally precede the party into the church, after having -seated the guests. These are generally followed by six bridesmaids, -who walk two and two. No one wears a veil but the bride herself, who -enters on her father's arm. Widows who marry again must not wear -white, or veils. The fact that the bride is in white satin, and often -with low neck and short sleeves, and the groom in full morning -costume, is much criticised in France. - -If the wedding occurs in the evening, the groom must wear a dress-coat -and white tie. - -The invitations to the wedding are very simple and explicit:-- - - GENERAL AND MRS. BROUNLOW - Request the pleasure of your company - at the marriage of their daughter - EXCLAIRMONDE - to - MR. GERALD FITZGERALD, - on Thursday, June 16th, at 12 o'clock, - St. Peter's Church. - -In asking a young lady to be her bridesmaid, the bride is supposed to -be prompted by claims of relationship or friendship, although fashion -and wealth and other considerations often influence these invitations. -As for the ushers, they must be unmarried men, and are expected to -manage all matters at the church. - -Music should play softly during the entrance of the family, before the -service. The mother of the bride, and her nearest relatives, precede -her into the church, and are seated before she enters, unless the -mother be a widow and gives the bride away. The ceremony should be -conducted with great dignity and composure on all sides; for -exhibitions of feeling in public are in the worst possible taste. At -the reception, the bride's mother yields her place as hostess for the -nonce, and is addressed after the bride. - -After two hours of receiving her friends, the young wife goes upstairs -to put on her dress for the journey, which may be of any colour but -black. Perhaps this is the time for a few tears, as she kisses mamma -good-by. She comes down, with her mother and sisters, meets the groom -in the hall, and dispenses the flowers of her bouquet to the smiling -maidens, each of whom struggles for a flower. - -The parents of the bride send announcement cards to persons not -invited to the wedding. - -Dinners to the young pair succeed each other in rapid succession. For -the first three months the art of entertaining is stretched to its -uttermost. - -A widow, in marrying again, should not use the name or initials of her -late husband. If she was Mary Steward, and had married Mr. Hamilton, -and being his widow, wishes to marry James Constable, her cards should -read: - - MR. AND MRS. STEWARD - Request the pleasure of your company - at the marriage of their daughter - MARY STEWARD-HAMILTON - to - MR. JAMES CONSTABLE. - -If she is alone, she can invite in her own name as Mrs. Mary Steward -Hamilton; or better still, a friend sends out the cards in her own -name, with simply the cards of Mrs. Mary Steward Hamilton, and of the -gentleman whom she is to marry. - -The custom of giving bridal presents has grown into an outrageous -abuse of a good thing. There has grown up a rivalry between families; -and the publicity of the whole thing, its notoriety and extravagance, -ought to be well rebuked. - -At the wedding refreshment-table, the bride sometimes cuts the cake -and allows the young people to search for a ring, but this is rather -bad for the gloves. - -At a country wedding, if the day is fine, little tables are set out on -the lawn. The ladies seat themselves, the gentlemen carry refreshments -to them. The piazzas can be decorated with autumn boughs, evergreens, -and flowers; the whole thing becomes a garden-party, and even the -family dogs should have a wreath of white flowers around their necks. - -Much ill feeling is apt to be engendered by the distinction which is -inevitably made in leaving out the friends who feel that they were -entitled to an invitation to the house. It is better to offend no one -on so important an occasion. - -Wedding-cards and wedding stationery should be simple, white without -glaze, and with no attempt at ornamentation. - -It is proper for the bride to have her left hand bare as she walks to -the altar, as it saves her the trouble of taking off a long glove. - -Child bridesmaids are very pretty and very much in favour. These -charming children, covered with flowers and looking very grave and -solemn, are the sweetest of heralds for a wedding procession. - -There is not, however, much difficulty except when Protestant marries -Catholic. Such a marriage cannot be celebrated at the High Altar; it -leads to a house wedding which is in the minds of many much more -agreeable, as saving the bride the journey to church. In this matter, -one of individual preference of course, the large and liberal American -mind can have a very wide choice. - -In France the couple must go to the _Mairie_, where an official in a -tricolour scarf, looking like Marat, marries them. This is especially -the case if husband or wife is a divorced person, the Catholic church -refusing to marry such. It is a curious fact, that in Catholic Italy a -civil marriage is the only legal marriage; therefore good Catholics -are all married twice. A mixed marriage in Catholic countries is very -difficult; but in our country, alas! the wedding knot can be untied as -easily as it is tied. - -"This train waits twenty minutes for divorces" is a joke founded on -fact. - -"What do _divorcees_ do with their wedding presents?" has been a -favourite conundrum of late, especially with those sent by the friends -of the husband. - -If an evening wedding takes place in a church those who are asked to -the house afterwards should go without bonnets. Catholic ladies, -however, must always cover their heads in church; so they throw a -light lace or mantilla over the head. - -It is not often that the bride dances at her own wedding, but there is -no reason why she should not. - -"'Tis custom that makes cowards of us all." One brave girl was married -on a Saturday in May, thus violating all the old saws and -superstitions. She has been happy ever afterwards. Marriages in May -used to be said to lead to poverty. It is the month of Mary, the -Virgin, therefore Catholics object. - -One still braver bride chose Friday; this is hangman's day, and also -the day of the crucifixion, therefore considered unlucky by the larger -portion of the human race. - -However, marriage is lucky or unlucky as the blind goddess pleases; no -foresight of ours can make it a certainty. Sometimes two very doubtful -characters make each other better, and live happily; again two very -fine characters but help to sublimate each other's misery. Perhaps no -more hopeless picture of this failure was ever painted than the misery -of Caroline and Robert Elsmere, in that masterly novel which led you -nowhere. - -There is a capital description of a French _bourgeoise_ wedding in one -of Daudet's novels:-- - -"The least details of this important day were forever engraved on -Risler's mind. - -"He saw himself at daybreak pacing his bachelor chamber, already -shaved and dressed, with two pairs of white gloves in his pocket. Then -came the gala carriages, and in the first one, the one with white -horses, white reins, and a lining of yellow satin, his bride's veil -floated like a cloud. - -"Then the entrance to the church, two by two, with this white cloud -always at their head, floating, light, gleaming; the organ, the -verger, the sermon of the _cure_, the tapers twinkling like jewels, -the spring toilets, and all the world in the sacristie--the little -white cloud lost, engulfed, surrounded, embraced, while the groom -shook hands with the representatives of the great Parisian firms -assembled in his honour; and the grand swell of the organ at the end, -more solemn because the doors of the church were wide open so that the -whole quarter took part in the family ceremony; the noises of the -street as the cortege passed out, the exclamations of the -lookers-on,--a burnisher in a lustring apron crying aloud, 'The groom -is not handsome, but the bride is stunning,'--all this is what makes -one proud when he is a bridegroom. - -"Then the breakfast at the works, in a room ornamented with hangings -and flowers; the stroll in the Bois, a concession to the bride's -mother, Madame Chebe, who in her position as a Parisian _bourgeoise_ -would not have considered her daughter married without the round of -the lake and a visit to the cascade; then the return for dinner just -as the lights were appearing on the Boulevard, where every one turned -to see the wedding party, a true, well-appointed party, as it passed -in a procession of liveried carriages to the very steps of the Cafe -Vefour. - -"It was all like a dream. - -"Now, dulled by fatigue and happiness, the worthy Risler looked -dreamily at the great table of twenty-five covers, with a horseshoe at -each end. Around it were well-known, smiling faces in whose eyes he -seemed to see his own happiness reflected. Little waves of -conversation from the different groups drifted across the table; faces -were turned toward one another. You could see here the white cuffs of -a black suit behind a basket of asclepias, here the laughing face of a -girl above a dish of confections. The faces of the guests were half -hidden behind the flowers and the dessert; all around the board were -gayety, light, and colour. - -"Yes, Risler was happy. - -"Aside from his brother Franz, all whom he loved were there. First and -foremost, facing him, was Sidonie,--yesterday the little Sidonie, -to-day his wife. She had laid aside her veil for dinner, she had -emerged from the white cloud. - -"Now in her silken gown, white and simple, her charming face seemed -more clear and sweet under the carefully arranged bridal wreath. - -"By the side of Risler sat Madame Chebe, the mother of the bride, who -shone and glistened in a dress of green satin gleaming like a shield. -Since morning all the thoughts of the good woman had been as brilliant -as her robe. Every moment she had said to herself, 'My daughter is -marrying Fremont and Risler,'--because in her mind it was not Risler -whom her daughter married, but the whole establishment. - -"All at once came that little movement among the guests that announces -their leaving the table,--the rustle of silks, the noise of chairs, -the last words of talk, laughter broken off. Then they all passed into -the grand _salon_, where those invited were arriving in crowds, and, -while the orchestra tuned their instruments, the men with glass in eye -paraded before the young girls all dressed in white and impatient to -begin." - - - - -HOW ROYALTY ENTERTAINS. - - Stand back, and let the King go by.--OLD PLAY. - - "Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers." - - -When we approach the subject of royal entertainments, we cannot but -feel that the best of us are at a disadvantage. Princes have palaces -and retainers furnished for them. They have a purse which knows no -end. They are either by the divine right, or by lucky chance, the -personages of the hour! It is only when one of them loses his head, or -is forced to abdicate, or falls by the assassin's dagger, that they -approach at all our common humanity. - -Doubtless to them, entertaining, being a perfunctory affair, becomes -very tedious. Pomp is not an amusing circumstance and they get so -tired of it all that when off duty kings and queens are usually the -most plainly dressed and the most simple of mortals. The "age of -strut" has passed away. No one cares to assume the puffiness of Louis -XIV. or George IV. - -Royal entertainments, however, have this advantage, they open to the -observer the historical palace, and the pictures, gems of art, and -interesting collections of which palaces are the great conservators. - -It would seem that Louis XIV., called _le Grand Monarque_, Louis the -Magnificent, was a master of the art of entertaining. Under him the -science of giving banquets received, in common with the other -sciences, a great progressive impulse. There still remains some memory -of those festivals, which all Europe went to see, and those -tournaments, where for the last time shone lances and knightly suits -of armour. The festivals always ended with a sumptuous banquet, where -were displayed huge centre-pieces of gold and silver, painting, -sculpture, and enamel, all laudatory of the hero of the occasion. - -This fashion made the fame of Benvenuto Cellini in the previous -century. To-day, monarchs content themselves with having these -centre-pieces made of cake, sugar, or ices. There will be no record of -their great feasts for future ages. - -Toward the end of the reign of Louis XIV., the cook, the _cordon -bleu_, received favourable notice; his name was written beside that of -his patron; he was called in after dinner. It is mentioned in some of -the English memoirs that this fashion was not unknown so lately as -fifty years ago in great houses in England, where the cook was called -in, in his white cap and apron, publicly thanked for his efforts, and -a glass of wine offered him by his master, all the company drinking -his health. This must have had an excellent effect on the art of -gastronomy. - -Madame de Maintenon, whose gloomy sway over the old king reduced the -gay court to the loneliness of an empty cathedral, threw a wet napkin -on the science of good eating, and put out the kitchen fires for a -season. - -Queen Anne, however, was fond of good cheer, and consulted with her -cook. Many cookery books have the qualification "after Queen Anne's -fashion." - -Under the Regent Orleans, a princely prince in spite of his faults, -the art of good eating and entertaining was revived; and he has left a -reputation for _piques_ of superlative delicacy, _matelots_ of -tempting quality, and turkeys superbly stuffed. - -The reign of Louis XV. was equally favourable to the art of -entertaining. Eighteen years of peace had made France rich, and a -spirit of conviviality was diffused amongst all classes. The proper -setting of the table, and order, neatness, and elegance, as essentials -of a well-appointed meal, date from this reign. It is from this period -that the history of the _petit soupers de Choisy_ begins. We need -hardly go in to that history of all that was reckless, witty, gay, and -dissolute in the art of entertaining; but as one item, a floor was -constructed so that the table and sideboard sank into the lower story -after each course, to be immediately replaced by others which rose -covered with a fresh course. From this we may imagine its luxury and -detail. - -Louis XV. was a proficient in the art of cookery; he also worked -tapestry with his own hand. We should linger over his feasts with more -pleasure had they not led on to the French Revolution, as a horrible -dessert. His carving-knives later on became the guillotine. - -Under Louis XVI. there was a constant improvement in all the -"occupations which are required in the preparation of food" by cooks, -_traiteurs_, pastry cooks, and confectioners. The art of preserving -food, so that one could have the fruits of summer in the midst of -winter, really began then, although the art of canning may safely be -said to belong to our own much later time. - -In the year 1740 a dinner was served in this order: Soup, followed by -the _bouilli_, an _entree_ of veal cooked in its own gravy, as a side -dish. Second course: A turkey, a dish of vegetables, a salad, and -sometimes a cream. Dessert: Cheese, fruit and sweets. Plates were -changed only thrice: after the soup, at the second course, and at -dessert. Coffee was rarely served, but cherry brandy or some liqueur -was passed. - -Louis XVIII., who grew to be an immensely fat man, was a remarkable -gastronome. Let any one read Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables," and an -account of his reign, to get an idea of this magnificent entertainer. -His most famous _maitre d'hotel_ was the Duc d'Escars. When he and his -royal master were closeted together to meditate a dish, the ministers -of state were kept waiting in the antechamber, and the next day an -official announcement was made, "Monsieur le Duc d'Escars a travaille -dans le cabinet." - -How strangely would it affect the American people if President -Harrison kept them waiting for his signature because he was discussing -terrapin and Madeira sauce with his _chef_. - -The king had invented the _truffles a la puree d'ortolans_, and -invariably prepared it himself, assisted by the duke. On one occasion -they jointly composed a dish of more than ordinary dimensions, and -duly consumed the whole of it. In the night the duke was seized with a -fit of indigestion, and his case was declared hopeless. Loyal to the -last, he ordered an attendant to awake and inform the king, who might -be exposed to a similar attack. His majesty was roused accordingly, -and told that D'Escars was dying of his invention. - -"Dying!" exclaimed the king: "well, I always said I had the better -stomach of the two." - -So much for the gratitude of kings. The Parisian restaurants, those -world-renowned Edens of the gastronomer, were formed and founded on -the theories of these cookery-loving kings. But political disturbances -were to intervene in the year 1770. After the glorious days of Louis -XIV. and the wild dissipation of the Regency, after the long -tranquillity under the ministry of Fleury, travellers arriving in -Paris found its resources very poor as to good cheer. But that soon -mended itself. - -It was not until about 1814 that the parent of Parisian restaurants, -Beauvilliers, made himself a cosmopolitan reputation by feeding the -allied armies. He learned to speak English, and in that way became -most popular. He had a prodigious memory, and would recognize and -welcome men who had dined at his house twenty years before. In this he -was like General Grant and the Prince of Wales. It is a very popular -faculty. - -Beauvilliers, Meot, Robert, Rose Legacque, the Brothers Very, -Hennevan, and Baleine, are the noble army of argonauts in discovering -the Parisian restaurant; or rather, they founded it. - -The Brothers Very, and the Trois Freres Prevenceaux, both in the -Palais Royal, are still great names to compete with. When the allied -monarchs held Paris, in 1814, the Brothers Very supplied their table -for a daily charge of one hundred and twenty pounds, not including -wine, and in Pere-la-Chaise a magnificent monument is erected to one -of them, declaring that his "whole life was consecrated to the useful -arts," as it doubtless was. - -From that day until 1890, what an advance there has been. There is now -a restaurant in nearly every street in Paris, where one can get a good -dinner. What a crowd of them in the Champs Elysees and out near the -Bois. - -A Parisian dinner is thoroughly cosmopolitan, and the best in the -world, when it is good. Parisian cookery has declined of late in the -matter of meats. They are not as good as they ought to be. But the -sauces are so many and so fine that they have given rise to many -proverbs. "The sauce is the ambassador of a king." "With such a sauce, -a man could eat his grandfather." - -Leaving France for other shores, for France has no monarch to -entertain us now, let us see how two reigning monarchs entertain. - -A presentation at the Court of St. James is a picturesque affair and -worth seeing, although it is a fatiguing process. A lady must be -dressed at eleven in the morning, in full court dress, which means low -neck and short sleeves, with a train four yards long and three wide. -She must wear a white veil and have three feathers in her hair so that -they can be seen in front. White gloves are also _de rigueur_, and as -they are seldom worn now, except at weddings, a lady must remember to -buy a pair. The carriages approach Buckingham Palace in a long queue, -and the lady waits an hour or more in line, exposed to the jeers of -the populace, who look in at the carriage windows and make comments, -laugh, and amuse themselves. One hopes that this may do these -ragamuffins some good, for they look miserable enough. - -Arriving in the noble quadrangle of Buckingham Palace, the music of -the Guard's band enlivens one, and the silent, splendid figures of the -household troops, the handsomest men in the world, sit like statues on -their horses. No matter if the rain is pouring, as it generally is, -neither man nor horse stirs. - -Once inside the palace, the card of entrance is taken by one of the -Queen's pages, some other official takes her cloak, and the lady -wends her way up a magnificent staircase into another gallery, out of -which open many fine rooms. Gentlemen of the Household in glittering -uniforms, and with orders, stand about in picturesque groups. - -The last room is filled with chairs, and is soon crowded with ladies -and gentlemen, waiting for the summons to move on. The gentlemen are -all in black velvet suits, with knee breeches and sword, silk -stockings and low shoes. - -A slight commotion at the little turnstile tells you to take your -turn; you pass on with the others, your name is loudly called, you -make three little courtesies to her Majesty, the Prince and Princess -of Wales, you see a glittering line of royalties, you hear the words, -"Your train, Madame," it is thrown over your arm by some cavalier -behind, and all is over; except that you are amongst your friends, and -see a glittering room full of people, and realize that nothing is so -bad as you had feared. After about an hour, you find your carriage and -drive home, or to your minister's for a cup of tea. - -Then you receive, if you are fortunate, a great card from the Lord -Chamberlain, with the Queen's command that you should be invited to a -ball at Buckingham Palace. This ball is a sight to see, so splendid is -the ball-room, so grand the elevated red sofas, with the duchesses and -their jewels. Royalty enters about eleven o'clock, followed by all the -ambassadors. - -Of late years the Queen has relegated her place as hostess to the -Princess of Wales, but during the jubilee year she kept it, and it was -a beautiful sight to see the little woman all covered with jewels, -with her royal brood around her. - -The royal family go in to supper through a lane of guests. The -supper-room is adorned with the gold plate bought by George IV., and -many very fine pieces of plate given by other monarchs. The eatables -and drinkables are what they would be at any great ball. - -The prettiest entertainment of the jubilee year was, however, the -Queen's garden-party. No one had seen that lovely park behind -Buckingham Palace for eighteen years; then it was used for the -garden-party given to the Khedive of Egypt. Now it was filled by a -most picturesque group. The Indian princes with all their jewels, -their turbans, their robes, their dark, handsome faces, stood at the -foot of a grand staircase which runs from the palace to the green -turf. Every other man was a king, a prince, a nobleman, a great -soldier, a statesman, a diplomate, a somebody. - -The women were all, of course, beautifully dressed in summer costume; -and the grounds, full of ancient trees and fountains, artificial lakes -with swans, marquees with refreshments, were as pretty as only a royal -English park can be. - -Presently we heard the sound of the bagpipes, and a procession headed -by some dancing Scotchmen came along. It was the Queen, with all her -children and grandchildren, ladies-in-waiting, and many monarchs, -amongst whom marched Queen Kapiolani of the Sandwich Islands. The -Queen walked with a cane, the Prince of Wales by her side. They all -stopped repeatedly and spoke to their guests on either side; then the -younger members of the family led the way to the refreshment tents, -where a truly regal buffet was spread. - -There was much talk, much music, much laughter, no stiffness. It was -real hospitality. In one of the windows of the palace stood looking -out the Crown Prince of Germany, later on to be the noble Emperor -Frederic, even then feeling the pressure of that malady which in -another year was to kill him. He who had been, in the procession of -Princes on the great day, so important and so handsome a figure, was -on this day a silent observer. The Queen after this gave an evening -party to all the royalties, and the ambassadors, and many invited -guests. - -The hospitality of the Queen is, of course, regal, but her dinners -must of a necessity be formal. General Grant mentioned his -disappointment that he did not sit next her, when she invited him to -Windsor, but she had one of her children on either side, and he came -next to the Princess Beatrice. - -The entertainments at Marlborough House are much less formal. The -Prince of Wales, the most genial and hospitable of men, cannot always -pen up his delightful cordiality behind the barriers of rank. - -As for the King and Queen of Italy, they do not try to restrain their -cordiality. The Court of Italy is most easy-going, democratic, and -agreeable, in spite of its thousand years of grandeur. The favoured -guest who is to be presented receives a card to the _cercle_, on a -certain Monday evening. The card prescribes low-necked dress, and any -colour but black. To drive to the Quirinal Palace on a moonlight night -in Rome is not unpleasant. - -The grand staircase, all covered with scarlet carpet, was lined with -gigantic cuirassiers in scarlet, who stood as motionless as statues. -We entered a grand hall frescoed by Domenichino. How small we felt -under these giant figures. We passed on to another _salon_, frescoed -by Julio Romano, so on to another where a handsome cavalier, the -Prince Vicovara, received our cards, and opening a door, presented us -to the Marchesa Villamarina, the Queen's dearest friend and favourite -lady-in-waiting. We were arranged in rows around a long and handsome -room. Presently a little movement at the door, and the deep courtesies -of the Princess Brancaccio and the Princess Vicovara, both Americans, -told us that the Queen had entered. - -Truly she is a royal beauty, a wonder on a throne. An accomplished -scholar, a thoughtful woman, Marguerite of Savoy is the rose of the -nineteenth century; her smile keeps Italy together. She is the -sweetest, the most beautiful of all the queens, and as she walks about -accompanied by her ladies, who introduce every one, she speaks to each -person in his or her own language; she is mistress of ten languages. -After she had said a few gracious words, the Queen disappeared, and -the Marchesa Villamarina asked us to take some refreshments, saying, -"I hope we shall see you on Thursday." - -The next day came an invitation to the grand court-ball. This is a -very fine sight. The King and Queen enter and take their places on a -high estrade covered with a crimson velvet baldaquin. Then the ladies -and gentlemen of the household and the ambassadors enter. - -The Count Gianotti, a very handsome Piedmontese, the favourite friend -of the King, the prefect of the palace and master of ceremonies, -declared the ball opened, and the Queen danced with the Baron Kendall. -The royal quadrille over, dancing became general. The King stood about -looking soldier-like, bored and silent; a patriot and brave man, he -hates society. The Queen does all the social work, and she does it -admirably. - -What a company that was,--all the Roman nobility, the diplomatic -corps, the visitors to Rome, S. P. Q. R., the senate and the Roman -people. After the dancing, supper was announced. Royalty does not sup -in public in Rome, as in England. The difference in etiquette is -curious. The King and Queen retired. We went in as we pleased at ten -o'clock, had seats, and supped gloriously; the excellent Italian -cookery, of which we have spoken previously, was served admirably. The -housekeeping at the Quirinal is excellent. - -The Queen of Italy moves about amongst the ambassadors' wives, and -summons any stranger to whom she may wish to speak, to her side. A -presentation to her is more personal and gracious than a like honour -at any other court. - -A presentation at court resolves itself into two advantages. One sees -the paraphernalia of royalty, always amusing and interesting to -American eyes. Americans see its poetry, its almost vanished meaning, -better than others. Power, even when it descends for a day on fresh -Republican shoulders, is awe-inspiring. The boy who is a leader at -school is more important than the boy who walks behind him. "A captain -of thousands" was an old Greek term for leadership, dignity, and -honour. Therefore it is not snobbery to desire to see these people on -whom have fallen the ermine of power. It is snobbery to bow down -before some unworthy bearer of a title; but when, as in the case of -Marguerite of Savoy, there is a very good, a very gifted, a very -wonderful woman behind it all, we are glad that she has been born to -wear all these jewels. - -We have in our minds one more scene, and a very picturesque one. In -September, 1888, the Duc d'Aosta, brother to King Humbert, married his -niece, Letitia Bonaparte, daughter of the Princess Clotilde and Prince -Jerome Bonaparte. This marriage occurred at Turin. A fine week of -autumn weather was devoted to this ceremony. It was a great gathering -of all the family of Victor Emmanuel. The Pope had granted an especial -dispensation to the nearly related couple. The degree of consanguinity -so repellent to us, is not considered, however, as prejudicial to -marriage in Spain, Italy, or Germany. - -The King of Italy made this occasion of his brother's marriage, an -open door for returning to the old Italian customs of past centuries, -in the art of entertaining. The city of Turin was _en fete_ for the -week. At booths, in the open air, strolling companies were playing -opera, tragedy, burlesque, and farce. At the King's charge, the -streets were lined with gay decorations of pink and white silk, -banners and escutcheons; music was heard everywhere, and at evening -brilliant illuminations followed the river. - -When the royal cortege appeared on their way to a public square they -were preceded by six hundred young cavaliers in the dress of Prince -Eugene, powdered hair, bright red and blue coats, each detachment -escorting a royal carriage. First came the King and Queen, then the -bridal pair. - -They mounted a superb thing, like a basket of flowers, in the Piazza -Vittorio Emmanuel, where all the royalties sat around the bride. Music -and flags saluted them. The vast crowd sat and looked at them for two -hours. A gayly decorated balloon, covered with roses, floated over -the Queen's head, and finally, as the rosy light faded away, a gun -from the fortress sounded the hour of departure. The glittering -cavalcade drove back to the palace, and we foreigners knew that we had -seen a real, mediaeval Italian festa. - - - - -ENTERTAINING AT EASTER. - - "There is a tender hue that tips the first young leaves of spring, - A trembling beauty in their notes when young birds learn to sing - A purer look when first on earth the gushing brook appears, - A liquid depth in infant eyes that fades with summer years." - - -In the early days of ecumenical councils it was a mooted point when -Easter should be celebrated. The Christian Jews kept the feast on the -same day as their Passover, the fourteenth of Nisan, the month -corresponding to our March or April; but the Gentile church observed -the first Sunday following this, because Christ rose from the dead on -that day. It was not until the fourth century that the Council of Nice -decided upon the first Sunday after the full moon which follows the -twenty-first of March. The contest was waged long and heavily, but the -Western churches were victorious; a vote settled it. - -Perhaps this victory decided the later and more splendid religious -ceremonials of Easter, which are much more observed in Rome and in all -Catholic countries than those of Christmas. Constantine gratified his -love of display by causing Easter to be celebrated with unusual pomp -and parade. Vigils and night watches were instituted, people remaining -all night in the churches in Rome, and carrying high wax tapers -through the streets in processions. - -People in the North, glad of an escape from four months of darkness, -watch to see the sun dawn on an Easter morning. They have a -superstitious feeling about this observance, which came originally -from Egypt, and is akin to the legend that the statue of Memnon sings -when the first ray of the sun touches it. - -It is the queen of feasts in all Catholic churches, the world over. In -early days, the fasting of Lent was restricted to one day, the Friday -of Passion Week, Good Friday; then it extended to forty hours, then to -forty days,--showing how much fashion, even in churchly affairs, has -to do with these matters. One witty author says that, "people who do -not believe in anything will observe Lent, for it is the fashion." - -Certainly, the little dinners of Lent, in fashionable society, are -amongst the most agreeable of all entertainments. The _creme -d'ecrevisse_, the oyster and clam soups, the newly arrived shad, the -codfish _a la royale_ and other tempting dainties are very good, and -the dinner being small, and at eight o'clock, there is before it a -long twilight for the drive in the Park. - -A pope of Rome once offered a prize to the man who would invent one -thousand ways of cooking eggs, for eggs can always be eaten in Lent, -and let us hope that he found them. The greatest coxcomb of all cooks, -Louis Ude, who was prone to demand a carriage and five thousand a -year, was famous for his little Lenten _menus_, and could cook fish -and eggs marvellously. The amusements of Lent have left one joke in -New York. Roller skates were once a very fashionable amusement for -Lenten afternoons, though now gone out, and a club had rented Irving -Hall for their playground and chosen _Festina lente_, "Make haste -slowly," for their motto. It was a very witty motto, but some wise -Malaprop remarked, "What a very happy selection, 'Festivals of Lent!'" - -However, Lent once passed, with its sewing circles and small -whist-parties, then comes the brilliant Easter, with its splendid -dinners, its weddings, its christenings and caudle parties, its -ladies' lunches, its Meadow Brook hunt, its asparagus parties, and the -chickens of gayety which are hatched out of Easter eggs. It is a great -day for the confectioner. In Paris, that city full of gold and misery, -the splendour and luxury of the Easter egg _bonbonniere_ is fabulous. -A few years since a Paris house furnished an Easter egg for a Spanish -infanta, which cost eight hundred pounds sterling. - -Easter dinners can be made delightful. They are simple, less heavy, -hot, and stuffy, than those of mid-winter. That enemy of the feminine -complexion, the furnace, is put out. It no longer sends up its direful -sirocco behind one's back. Spring lamb and mint sauce, asparagus and -fresh dandelion salad, replace the heavy joint and the canned -vegetables. A foreigner said of us that we have everything canned, -even the canvas-back duck and the American opera. Everything should be -fresh. The ice-cream man devises allegorical allusions in his forms, -and there are white dinners for young brides, and roseate dinners for -_debutantes_. - -For a gorgeous ladies' lunch, behold a _menu_. This is for Easter -Monday:-- - - Little Neck clams. - Chablis. Beef tea or _consomme_ in cups. - _Cotelettes de cervelles a la cardinal._ Cucumbers. - Little ducks with fresh mushrooms. - Champagne. Artichokes. - Sweetbread _a la Richelieu_. - Asparagus, Hollandaise sauce. - Claret. Roman punch. - _Pate de foie gras._ - Roast snipe. - Tomato salad, lettuce. - Liqueur. Ice-creams, - in form of nightingales' nests. - Strawberries, sugared fruit, nougat cakes. - Coffee. - -Of course, a season of such rejoicing, when "Christians stand praying, -each in an exalted attitude, with outstretched hands and uplifted -faces, expressing joy and gladness," is thought to be very propitious -for marriage. There is generally a wedding every day, excepting -Friday, during Easter week. A favourite spring travelling-dress for an -Easter bride is fawn coloured cashmere, with a little round hat and -bunch of primroses. - -For a number of choir boys to sing an epithalamium, walking up the -aisle before the bride, is a new and very beautiful Easter fashion. - -A favourite entertainment for Easter is a christening. Christening -parties are becoming very important functions in the art of -entertaining. Many Roman Catholics are so anxious for the salvation of -the little new soul, that they have their children baptized as soon as -possible, but others put off this important ceremony until mamma can -go to church, when little master is five weeks old. Then friends are -invited to the ceremony very much in this fashion:-- - - Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton request the pleasure of your company at - the baptism of their infant daughter at the Cathedral, Monday, - March 30, at 12 o'clock. At home, after the ceremony, 14 W. - Ellicott Square. - -Many wealthy Roman Catholics have private chapels where the ceremony -may be performed earlier. - -Presents are sent to the mamma, of flowers and bonbonnieres shaped -like an altar, a cradle, a powder-box; and there may be gold -tea-scoops, pap-spoons and a caudle-cup. Gifts of old Dutch silver and -the inevitable posy or couplet are very favourite gifts for the baby -and mamma on these auspicious occasions. - -Caudle is a very succulent porridge made of oatmeal, raisins, spices, -and rum, all boiled together for several days until it becomes a jelly -gruel. It is very much sweetened, and is served hot in cups. The -caudle-cup designed by Albrecht Duerer for some member of the family of -Maximilian is still shown. Caudle cards are very often stamped with a -cameo resemblance of these cups, and the invitation reads:-- - - MRS. JAMES HAMILTON, - at Home, - Thursday, March 30, from three to six. - Caudle. - -These do not require an answer. - -Very pretty tea-gowns are worn by mamma and the ladies of her family -for this entertainment, but the guests come in bonnets and street -dresses. There is no objection to having the afternoon tea-table with -its silver tea-kettle, alcohol-lamp, pretty silver tea-set, plates of -bread and butter, and little cakes ready for those ladies who prefer -tea. Caudle is sometimes added to the teas of a winter afternoon, by -the remnants of old Dutch families, even when there is no little -master as a _raison d'etre_, and delicious it is. - -There is a pretty account of the marriage of Marguerite of Austria -with Philibert, the handsome Duke of Savoy. It is called _Mariage aux -oeufs_. She had come to the Castle of Brae, in the charming district -of Bresse lying on the western slopes of the Alps. Here the rich -princess kept open house, and Philibert, who was hunting in the -neighbourhood, came to pay his court to her. It was Easter Monday, and -high and low danced together on the green. The old men drew their bows -on a barrel filled with wine, and when one succeeded in planting his -arrow firmly in it he was privileged to drink as much as he pleased -_jusqu'a merci_. - -A hundred eggs were scattered in a level place, covered with sand, and -a lad and lass, holding each other by the hand, came forward to -execute a dance of the country. According to the ancient custom, if -they succeeded in finishing the _branle_ without breaking a single egg -they became affianced, and even the will of their parents might not -avail to break their union. Three couples had already tried it -unsuccessfully and shouts of laughter derided their attempts, when the -sound of a horn was heard, and Philibert of Savoy, radiant with youth -and happiness, appeared on the scene. He bent his knees before the -noble _chatelaine_ and besought her hospitality. He proposed to her to -try the egg fortune. She accepted. Their grace and beauty charmed the -lookers-on and they succeeded, without a single crash, in treading the -perilous maze. - -"Savoy and Austria!" shouted the crowd. And she said, "Let us adopt -the custom of Bresse." - -They were married, and enjoyed a few years of exquisite happiness; -then the beloved husband died. Marguerite survived him long, but never -forgot him. She built in his memory a beautiful church. Travellers go -to-day to see their magnificent tomb. - -The egg has been in all ages and in all countries the subject of -infinite mystery, legend, and history. The ancient Finns believed that -a mystic bird laid an egg in the lap of Vaimainon, who hatched it in -his bosom. He let it fall in the water, and it broke. The lower -portion of the shell formed the earth, the upper the sky, the liquid -white became the sun, the yolk the moon, while little bits of -egg-shells became the stars. - -Old English and Irish nurses instruct the children, when they have -eaten a boiled egg, to push the spoon through the bottom of the shell -to hinder the witches from making a boat of it. - -It is difficult to ascertain the precise origin of the custom of -offering eggs at the festival of Easter. The Persians, the Russians, -and the Jews all follow it. - -Amongst the Romans the year began at Easter, as it did amongst the -Franks under the Capets. Many presents are exchanged, and as an egg is -the beginning of all things, nothing better could be found as an -offering. Its symbolic meaning is striking. We offer our friends all -the blessings contained under that fragile shell, whose fragility -represents that of happiness here below. The Romans commenced their -repasts with an egg; hence the proverbial phrase, "_ab ovo usque ad -mala_," or, as we still say, "beginning _ab ovo_." - -Another reason given for the Easter egg is that, about the fourth -century, the Church forbade the use of eggs in Lent. But as the -heretical hens would go on laying, the eggs accumulated to such a -degree that they were boiled hard and given away. They were given to -the children for playthings, and they dyed them of gay colours. In -certain churches in Belgium the priests, at the beginning of a glad -anthem, threw the eggs at the choristers who threw them back again, -dancing to the music whilst catching the frail eggs that they might -not break. - -In Germany, where means are more limited than in France, the Easter -egg _bonbonniere_ is rare. There are none of the eight-hundred-pound -kind, which was made of enamel, and which on its inside had engraved -the gospel for the day, while by an ingenious mechanism a little bird, -lodged in this pretty cage, sang twelve airs from as many operas. - -But in Germany, to make up for this poverty, they have transformed the -hare into an oviparous animal, and in the pastry cook's windows one -sees this species of hen sitting upright in a nest surrounded by eggs. -I have often wondered if that inexplicable saying "a mare's nest," -might not have been "a hare's nest." As a _lucus a non lucendo_ it -would have done as well. When a German child, at any season of the -year, sees a hare run across the field, he says, "Hare, good little -hare, lay plenty of eggs for me on Easter day." It is the custom of -German families, on Easter eve, to place sugar-eggs and real eggs, the -former filled with sugar plums, in a nest, and then to conceal it with -dried leaves in the garden that the joyous children may hunt for them -on Easter morning. - -It is a superstition all over the world that we should wear new -clothes on Easter Day. Bad luck will follow if there is not at least -one article which is new. - - - - -HOW TO ENTERTAIN CHILDREN. - - From the realms of old-world story - There beckons a lily hand, - That calls up the sweetness, the glory, - The sounds of a magic land. - - Ah, many a time in my dreaming - Through that blessed region I roam! - Then the morning sun comes with its beaming - And scatters it all like foam! - HEINE. - - -In the life of Madame Swetchine we read the following account of the -amusements of a clever child:-- - -"The occupation of a courtier did not prevent Monsieur Soymonof from -bestowing the most assiduous care on the education of a daughter, who -for six years was his only child. He was struck by the progress of her -young intellect. She showed an aptitude for languages, music, and -drawing, while she developed firmness of character,--a rare quality in -a child. - -"She desired a watch with an ardour which transpired in all her -movements, and her father had promised her one. The watch came and was -worn with the keenest enjoyment; but suddenly a new thought seized -upon the little Sophia. She reflected that there was something better -than a watch. To relinquish it of her own accord, she hurried to her -father and restored to him the object of her passionate desires, -acknowledging the motive. Her father looked at her, took the watch, -shut it up in a bureau drawer, and said no more about it. - -"M. Soymonof's rooms were adorned with bronzes, medals, and costly -marbles. Sophia was on terms of intimacy with these personages of -fable and history; but she felt an unconquerable repugnance to a -cabinet full of mummies. The poor child blushed for her weakness, and -one day, when alone, opened the terrible door, ran straight to the -nearest mummy, took it up, and embraced it till her strength and -courage gave away, and she fell down in a swoon. At the noise of her -fall, her father hastened in, raised her in his arms, and obtained -from her, not without difficulty, an avowal of the terrors which she -had hitherto concealed from him. But this supreme effort was as good -for her as a victory. From that day the mummies were to her only -common objects of interest and curiosity. - -"Studious as was her education, M. Soymonof did not banish dolls. His -daughter loved them as friends and preserved this taste beyond her -childish years, but elevated it by the admixture of an intellectual -and often dramatic interest. Her dolls were generally of the largest -size. She gave them each a name and part to act, established connected -relations between the different individuals, and kept up animated -dialogues which occupied her imagination vividly, and became a means -of instruction. Playing dolls was for her an introduction to ethics -and a knowledge of the world. - -"Catherine's court was a succession of continual _fetes_. The fairy -pantomimes performed at the Hermitage were the first to strike the -imagination of the child, who as yet could not relish the tragedies of -Voltaire. She composed a _ballet_ which she called 'The Faithful -Shepherdess and the Fickle Shepherdess.' She writes in her sixtieth -year: 'One of the liveliest pleasures of my childhood was to compose -festive decorations which I loved to light up and arrange upon the -white marble chimney-piece of my schoolroom. The ardour which I threw -into designing, cutting out, and painting transparencies, and finding -emblems and mottoes for them was something incredible. My heart beat -high while the preparations were in progress but the moment my -illumination began to fade an ineffable devouring melancholy seized -me.'" - -This extract is invaluable not only for its historic importance, but -for the keynote which it sounds to a child's nature. The noble little -Russian girl at the court of Catherine of Russia found only those -pleasures lasting which came from herself, and when she could invest -the fairy pantomime with her own personality. - -A fairy pantomime is possible to the poorest child if some superior -intelligence, an older sister or aunt, will lend her help. The fairies -can all be of pasteboard, with strings as the motive power. There can -be no cheaper _corps de ballet_, nor any so amusing. - -"You have done much for your child" is an expression we often hear. -"You have had a nurse, a nursery governess, a fine pony for your boy, -you take your children often to the play and give them dancing -parties, and yet they are not happy." It is the sincere regret of many -a mamma that she cannot make her children happy. Yet in a large town, -in a house shut up from our cold winter blasts, what can she do? A -good dog and a kind-hearted set of servants will solve the problem -better than all the intellect in the world. Grandmamma brings a doll -to the little girl, who looks it over and says: "The dolly cannot be -undressed, I do not want it." It is the dressing and the undressing -which are the delights of her heart. - -A boy wants to make a noise, first of all things. Let him have a large -upper room, a drum, a tambourine, a ball, and there he should be -allowed to kick out the effervescence of early manhood. Do not follow -him with all manner of prohibitions. Constant nagging and -fault-finding is an offence against a child's paradise. Put him in a -room for certain hours of the day where no one need say, "Get down! -don't do that! don't make so much noise!" Let him roar, and shout, and -climb over chairs and tables, and tear his gown, and work off his -exuberance, and then he will be very glad to have his hands and face -washed and listen to a story, or come down to meet papa with a smiling -countenance. - -Children should be allowed to have pet birds, kittens, dogs, and as -much live stock as the house will hold; it develops their sympathies. -When a bird dies, and the floodgates of the poor little heart are -opened, sympathize with it. It is cruel to laugh at childish woe. -Never refuse a child sympathy in joy or sorrow. This lack of sympathy -has made more criminals than anything else. - -Children should never be deceived either in the taking of medicine or -the administration of knowledge. One witty writer a few years ago -spoke of the bad influence of good books. He declared that reading -"that Tommy was a good boy and kept his pinafore clean and rose to -affluence, while Harry flung stones and told fibs and was carried off -by robbers," developed his sympathies for Harry; and that although he -was naturally a good boy he went, for pure hatred of the virtuous -Tommy, to the river's brink and helped a bad boy to drown his aunt's -cat, and then went home and wrote a prize composition called "Frank -the Friendless, or Honesty is Best." All this was because the boy saw -that Tommy was a prig, that his virtue was of that kind mentioned in -Jane Eyre, in which the charity child was asked whether she would -rather learn a hymn or receive a cake; she said "Learn a hymn," -whereupon she received "two cakes as a reward for her infant piety." -Children cannot be humbugged; they can be made into hypocrites, -however, by too many good books. - -The best entertainment for children is to let them play at being -useful. Let the little girl get papa's slippers, brush his hat, even -if the wrong way, find his walking stick, hold the yarn for grandma's -knitting, or rock her brother's cradle, and she will be happy. Give -the boy a printing-press or some safe tools, let him make a garden, -feed his chickens, or clean out the cage of his pet robin, and he will -be happy. Try to make them think and decide for themselves. A little -girl says, "I don't know which dress to put on my dolly, Mamma, which -shall I?" The mamma will be wise if she says, "You must decide, you -know dolly best." - -When a child is ill or nervous, the great hour of despair comes to the -mamma. A person without nerves, generally a good coloured mammy, is -the best playmate, and a dog is invaluable. It is touching to see the -smile come to the poor bloodless lips in a hospital ward, as a great, -big, kindly dog puts his cold nose out to reach a little feverish -hand. There is a sympathy in nature which intellect loses. - -Madame Swetchine's fear of the mummies has another lesson in it. -Children are born with pet aversions, as well as with that terrible -fear which is so much bigger than they are. The first of their rights -to be respected is that they shall not be frightened, and shall not be -too seriously blamed for their aversions. Buffalo Bill, who knows more -about horses than most people, says that no horse is born bad; that he -is made a bucking horse, a skittish horse, or a stumbling horse by -being badly trained,--misunderstood when he was young. How true this -is of human nature! How many villains are developed by an unhappy -childhood! How many scoundrels does the boys' hall turn out! We must -try to find these skeletons in the closet, this imprisoned spectre -which haunts the imaginative child, and lay the ghost by sympathy and -by common-sense. Cultivating the imagination, not over-feeding it or -starving it, would seem to be the right way. - -Perhaps there are no better ways of entertaining children than by a -juggler, the magic lantern, and simple scientific experiments. We use -the term advisedly. Jugglery was the oldest of the sciences. Aaron and -Moses tried it. One of the most valuable solaces for an invalid -child--one with a broken leg, or some complaint which necessitates bed -and quiet--is an experiment in natural magic. - -One of these simple tricks is called "The Balanced Coin." Procure a -bottle, cork it, and in the cork place a needle. Take another cork, -and cut a slit in it, so that the edge of a dollar will fit into it; -then put two forks into the upper cork. Place the edge of the coin, -which holds the upper cork and forks, on the point of the needle, and -it will revolve without falling. This will amuse an imprisoned boy all -the afternoon. - -The revolving image is a most amusing gentleman. Let poor Harry make -this himself. Cut a little man out of a thin bit of wood, making him -end in one leg, like a peg-top, instead of in two. Give him a pair of -long arms, shaped like oars. Then place him on the tip of your finger, -and blow; he will stand there and rotate, like an undecided -politician. - -The Spanish dancer is another nice experiment. Cut a figure out of -pasteboard, and gum one foot on the inverted side of a watch-glass; -then place the watch-glass on a Japan waiter or a clean plate. Hold -the plate slanting, and they will slide down; but drop a little water -on the waiter or plate, and instead of the watch-glass sliding, it -will begin to revolve, and continue to revolve with increased velocity -as the experimentalist chooses. This is in consequence of the cohesion -of water to the two surfaces, by which a new force is introduced. -These experiments are endless, and will serve a variety of purposes, -the principal being that of entertaining. - -To take children to the pantomime at Christmas is the universal law in -England. We have seldom the pantomime here. We have the circus, the -menagerie, and the play. A real play is better for children than a -burlesque, and it is astonishing to see how soon a child can -understand even Hamlet. - -To allow children to play themselves in a fairy tale, such as -"Cinderella," is a doubtful practice. The exposure, the excitement, -the late hours, the rehearsals, are all bad for young nerves; but they -can play at home if it is in the daytime. - -When boys and girls get old enough for dancing-parties, nothing can be -more amusing than the sight of the youthful followers of Terpsichore. -It is a healthy amusement, and if kept within proper hours, and -followed by a light supper only, is the most fitting of all -children's amusements. Do not, however, make little men and women of -them too soon. That is lamentable. - -As for ruses and catch-games like "The Slave Despoiled," "The Pigeon -Flies," "The Sorcerer behind the Screen," "The Knight of the Whistle," -"The Witch," "The Tombola," one should buy one of the cheap manuals of -games found at any bookstore, and a clever boy should read up, and put -himself in touch with this very easy way of passing an evening. - -The games requiring wit and intelligence are many; as "The Bouquet," -"The Fool's Discourse," which has a resemblance to "Cross Questions," -"The Secretary," "The Culprit's Seat." All these need a good memory -and a ready wit. All mistakes are to be redeemed by forfeit. - -Of the games to be played with pencil and paper, none is funnier than -"The Narrative," in which the leader decides on the title, and gives -it out to the company. It may be called "The Fortunate and Unfortunate -Adventures of Miss Palmer." The words to be used may be "history," -"reading," "railway accident," "nourishment," "pleasures," -"four-in-hand," etc. The paper has a line written, and is folded and -handed thus to the next,--each writer giving Miss Palmer whatever -adventures he pleases, only bringing in the desired word. The result -is incoherent, but amusing, and Miss Palmer becomes a heroine of -romance. - -There are some children, as there are some grown people, who have a -natural talent for games. It is a great help in entertaining children -to get hold of a born leader. - -The game called "The Language of Animals" is one for philosophers. -Each player takes his pencil and paper, and describes the feelings, -emotions, and passions of an animal as if he were one. As, for -instance, the dog would say: "I feel anger, like a human being. I am -sometimes vindictive, but generally forgiving. I suffer terribly from -jealousy. My envy leads me to eat more than I want, because I do not -wish Tray to get it. Gluttony is my easily besetting sin, but I never -got drunk in my life. I love my master better than any one; and if he -dies, I mourn him till death. My worst sorrow is being lost; but my -delights are never chilled by expectation, so I never lose the edge of -my enjoyments by over-raised hopes. I want to run twenty miles a day, -but I like to be with my master in the evening. I love children -dearly, and would die for any boy: I would save him from drowning. I -cannot wag my tongue, but I can wag my tail to express my emotion." - -The cat says: "I am a natural diplomatist, and I carry on a great -secret service so that nobody knows anything about it. I do not care -for my master or mistress, but for the house and the hearth-rug. I am -very frugal, and have very little appetite. I kill mice because I -dislike them, not that I like them for food. Oh, no! give me the -cream-jug for that. I am always ready to do any mischief on the sly; -and so if any one else does anything, always say, 'It was the cat.' I -have no heart, by which I escape much misery. I have a great advantage -over the dog, as he lives but a few years and has but one life. I have -a long life, and nine of them; but why the number nine is always -connected with me, I do not know. Why 'cat-o-nine-tails?' Why 'A cat -has nine lives,' etc.?" - -Thus, for children's entertaining we have the same necessities as for -grown people. Some one must begin; some one must suggest; some one -must tell how. All society needs a leader. It may be for that reason -our own grown-up society is a little chaotic. - -Perhaps the story of Madame Swetchine and her watch conveys a needed -moral. Do not deluge children with costly gifts. Do not thus deprive -them of the pleasures of hope. Anticipation is the dearest part of a -child's life, and an overfed child, suffering from the pangs of -dyspepsia, is no more to be pitied than the poor little gorged, -overburdened child, who has more books than he can read and more toys -than he can ever play with. Remember, too, "Dr. Blimber's Young -Gentlemen," and their longing jealousy of the boy in the gutter. - - - - -CHRISTMAS AND CHILDREN. - - "Then I stooped for a bunch of holly - Which had fallen on the floor, - And there fell to the ground as I lifted it - A berry--or something more; - And after it fell my eyes could see - More clearly than before! - But oh! for the red Christingle - That never was missing of yore, - And oh! for the red Christingle - That I miss forever more!" - - -Christingles are not much known in this country. They are made by -piercing a hole in an orange, putting a piece of quill three or four -inches long, set upright, in the hole, and usually a second piece -inside this. Each quill is divided into several slips, each one of -which is loaded with a raisin. The weight of the raisins bends down -the little boughs, giving two circles of pendants. A coloured taper is -placed in the upper quill and lighted on Christmas Eve. The custom is -a German one. - -The harbinger of Christmas, in Holland, is a Star of Bethlehem carried -along through the cities by the young men who pick up alms for the -poor. They gather much money, for all come to welcome this symbol of -peace. They then betake themselves to the head burgomaster of the -town, who is bound to give them a good meal. - -The little Russian, amid the snows, looks for the red candle and the -Christmas Tree, and the ice is all alight with gay illuminations. The -little Roman boy watches with delight the preparation for the -_Beffana_ in the public squares of Rome. For the _Beffana_ is the -witch who rides on a broomstick; she is a female Santa Claus, who -brings presents to a good child and a bunch of rods to a bad one. Her -worship is celebrated on Christmas Eve to the sound of trumpets and -all manner of unearthly noises. Then the boy goes to the Church of the -Augustins, to see the little Jesus Child lying in the lap of his Holy -Mother. He hears the most charming music, and singing choristers swing -the censer before the Host. Above his head Saint Michael fights with -the dragon. He sees the splendid procession of the cardinals in their -gorgeous red and white robes, and as he goes down the broad marble -steps, on each side of which beautiful statues stand in niches, his -mother, poor Dominica, peasant of the Campagna, kneels and makes the -sign of the cross, and tells her boy that this is Christmas, the day -on which the Jesus Child was born to take his sins away. Again he -wanders with her through the market-place; every one gives him -playthings, fruits, and cakes; a rich foreigner tosses him a coin. The -little Antonio asks why, and his mother tells him it is Christmas, but -not so gay as when she was a little girl, for then the _pifferari_, -the shepherds from the mountains, came, in their short cloaks with -ribbons around their pointed hats, to play on their bagpipes before -every image of the Virgin. Then they go again to the Church, the -beautiful Church of Ara Coeli, to hear the angel girls make Christmas -speeches to welcome the little Christ-child, and as he looks at the -image of the Madonna, all hung with jewels, he wishes it were -Christmas all the year round. - -The Christmas tree dates back to the Druids, but seems to have -disappeared from England for several centuries. Meantime, it blossomed -in Germany, where, under the tender and soft Scandinavian influence -which has such an admirable and ameliorating effect on homely German -life, it has continued to bear its fruit for six hundred years. It -came back to England in the days of Queen Charlotte, who, true to her -German associations, had a tree dressed at Kew Palace in the rooms of -her German attendant. It was hung, writes the Hon. Amelia Murray, with -gifts for the children, "who were invited to see it; and I remember," -she says, "what a pleasure it was to hunt for one's name." - -The "Mayflower," which brought much else that was good, forgot the -Christmas tree. It was not until the beginning of the present century -that one could be seen near Plymouth Rock. Men and women now living -can remember when Washington Irving's "Sketch-book" told to them the -first story of an English Christmas, and some brave women determined -to hang a few boughs and red berries around the cold, barren church. - -Then the tree began to bud and burgeon with gifts, and the rare -glories of colour crept in upon the snows of winter. The red fire on -the hearth, the red berries on the mantel, brought in the light which -grew pale in winter, the hospitality and the cheer of the turkey and -plum-pudding went around, and Christmas carols began to be sung by men -of Puritan antecedents. Old Christmas, frightened away at first by a -few fanatics, came at last to America to stay, and the mistletoe, -prettiest, most weird, most artistic of parasites, was removed from -dreary Druidical associations, and no longer assists at human -sacrifices,--unless some misogynist may so consider the getting of -husbands. - -The English Christmas is the typical one in the art of entertaining. -In every country neighbourhood, public county balls are conducted with -great pomp during the twelve days of Christmas. From all the great -houses within ten or fifteen miles come large parties, dressed in the -latest London fashions, among them the most distinguished lights of -the London world. Country residents are also conspicuous, and for -people who live altogether in the country this is the chosen occasion -for the first introduction of a daughter into society. The town hall -or any other convenient building is beautifully dressed with holly and -mistletoe. The band is at the upper end and the different sets form -exclusive groups about the room, seldom mixing even in the Virginia -Reel and other country dances. - -The private festivities of Christmas consist of a dinner to the -tenantry and a large one to the family, all of whose members are -expected. The mistletoe is hung conspicuously from the great lantern -in the hall, or over the stag's head at the door. The rooms are -wreathed with holly, each picture is framed in it, and the ladies put -the red berries in their hair and all over their dresses. The -customary turkey, a mighty bird, enters, making an event at the -dinner, while later on, a plum-pudding, all ablaze, with a sprig of -holly in the midst, makes another sensation. Mince-pies are set on -fire with the aid of a little alcohol, which is poured over them from -a small silver ladle. After the dinner, is passed the loving cup, a -silver cup with two handles, containing a hot, spiced, sweetened ale. -It has two mouths, and as it is lifted its weight requires both hands. - -In England, Christmas and New Year's still keep some of the mediaeval -village customs. Men go about in motley, imitating quacks and -fortune-tellers, and there is much noise and tooting of horns. These -mummers are sent to the servants' hall, where a plentiful supper and -horns of ale await them. The waits, or carol singers, are another -remnant of old Christmas. In remote parts of England the stables are -lighted, to prove that man has not forgotten the Child born and laid -in a manger. As for the parish festivities, in which the hall has so -prominent a part, the school feasts, the blankets for the poor, the -clothing-club meetings at Martinmas, all has been told us in novels, -which have also given us many a picture of comfortable and stately -English life. - -The modern English squire does not, however, eat, drink, and make -merry for twelve days, as he used. The wassail-bowl is broken at the -fountain, and mince-pies and goose-pies and yule-cakes are thought to -be heavy for modern digestion. But the good cheer remains. - -The noblest as well as the humblest of all English houses, especially -in Yorkshire, keep up the old superstition of lighting the Yule log, -"the ponderous ashen fagot from the yard," and great ill-luck is -foretold if its flame dies out before Twelfth Night. Frumenty, which -is a porridge boiled with milk, sugar, wine, spices, and raisins, is -served. It was in a cup of frumenty, as every conscientious reader of -fairy stories will remember, that Tom Thumb was dropped by his -careless nurse. The Christmas pie of Yorkshire, is a "brae goose-pie" -which Herrick in one of his delightful verses thus defends: - - "Come guard this night the Christmas pie, - That the thiefe, though ne'er so slie, - With his fleshhooks, don't come nie - To catch it. - - "From him who all alone sits there, - Having his eyes still in his eare, - And a deale of nightly feare - To watch it." - -In America, the young people are utilizing Christmas day as they do in -England, if there is no frost, to go a-hunting. Afternoon tea, under -the mistletoe in the hall of a country house, is generally taken in a -riding habit. - -In most families it is a purely domestic festival; although, as the -tree has been enjoyed the night before, when Santa Claus, the great -German sprite, has held his revels, there is no reason why a grand -dinner to one's friends should not be given. And let us plead that the -turkey, our great national bird, may not be cooked by gas. He is so -much better roasted before a wood fire. - -There are some difficulties in giving a Christmas dinner in a large -city, as nearly all the waiters are sure to be drunk, and the cook has -also, perhaps, been at the frumenty. Being a religious as well as a -social festival, it is apt to bring about a confusion of ideas. But, -everything else apart, it is Children's Day; it is the day when, as -Dickens says, we should remember the time when its great Founder was a -child Himself. It is especially the day for the friendless young, the -children in hospitals, the lame, the sick, the weary, the blind. No -child should be left alone on Christmas Day, for loneliness with -children means brooding. A child growing up with no child friend is -not a child at all, but a premature man or woman. - -The best Christmas present to a boy is a box of tools, the best to a -girl any number of dolls. After dressing and undressing them, giving -them a bath, taking them through a fit of sickness, punishing them, -and giving them an airing in the park,--for little maidens begin to -imitate mamma at a very early age,--the next best amusement is to -manufacture a doll's house. The brother must plane the box,--an old -wine box will do,--and fit in it four compartments, each of which must -be elaborately papered. Then a "real carpet" must be nailed down and -pictures hung on the wall. These bits, framed with gold paper, usually -require mamma's help. The kitchen must be fitted up with tins, which -perhaps had better be bought, but after the _batterie de cuisine_ is -finished, then the chairs and beds should be made at home. Cardboard -boxes can be cut into excellent doll's beds. Pillows, bolsters, -mattress, sheets, pillow-cases, will keep little fingers busy for many -days. - -When they get older, and can write letters, a post-office is a -delightful boon. These are to be bought, but they are far more amusing -if made at home. Any good-sized card-box will do for this purpose. The -lid should be fastened to it so that when it stands up it will open -like a door. A slit must be cut out about an inch wide, and from five -to six inches long, so as to allow the postage of small parcels, yet -not large enough even to admit the smallest hand. Children should -learn to respect the inviolate character of the post from the earliest -age. - -On the door should be written the times of the post. Most children are -fond of writing letters to one another, and this will of course give -rise to a grand manufacture of note paper, envelopes, and post-cards, -and will call forth ingenuity in designing and colouring monograms and -crests, for their note paper and envelopes. An envelope must be taken -carefully to pieces, to form a flat pattern. Then those cut from it -have to be folded, gummed together, a touch of gum put on the flap -and the monogram made to correspond. It is wonderful what occupation -this gives for weeks. A paint-box should be also amongst the Christmas -gifts. - -Capital scrap-books can be made by children. Old railway guides may be -the foundation, and every illustrated paper the magazine of art. A -paste-pot, next to a paint-box, is a most serviceable toy. - -Children like to imitate their elders. A little boy of two years -enjoys smoking a pipe as he sees grandpapa smoke, and knocks out -imaginary ashes, as he does, against the door. - -Hobby horses are profitable steeds, and can be made to go through any -amount of paces. But mechanical toys are more amusing to his elders -than to the child, who wishes to do his own mechanism. A boy can be -amused by turning him out of the house, giving him a ball or a kite, -or letting him dig in the ground for the unhappy mole. Little girls, -who must be kept in, on a rainy day, or invalid children, are very -hard to amuse and recourse must be had to story-telling, to the dear -delightful thousand and one books now written for children, of which -"Alice in Wonderland" is the flower and perfection. - -For communities of children, as in asylums and schools, there is -nothing like music, songs, and marches; anything to keep them in time -and tune. It removes for a moment that institutionized look which has -so unhappy an effect. - -Happy is the child who has inherited a garret full of old trunks, old -furniture, old pictures, any kind of old things. It is a precious -inheritance. Given the dramatic instinct and a garret, and a family of -quick-witted boys and girls will have amusement long after the -Christmas holidays are passed. - -It would be a great amusement for weeks before Christmas, if children -were taught to make the ornaments for the tree, as is done in -economical Germany. Here the ideas of secrecy and mystery are so -associated with Santa Claus that such an idea would be rejected. But a -thing is twice as interesting if we put ourselves into it. - -At Christmas time let us invoke the fairies. They, the gentry, the wee -people, the good people, are very dear to the real little wee people, -who see the fun and do not believe too much in them. The fairies who -make their homes under old trees and resort to toadstools for shelter, -and who make invisible excursions into farmhouses have afforded the -Irish nurse no end of legends. An old nurse once held a magnificent -position in the nursery because she had seen a fairy. - -The Christmas green was once the home of the peace-loving wood-sprite. -Christmas evergreens and red berries make the most effective interior -decorations, their delightful fragrance, their splendid colour renders -the palace more beautiful, and the humble house attractive. Before -Twelfth Night, January 6, they must all be taken down. The festivities -of this great day were much celebrated in mediaeval times, and the -picture by Rubens, "The King Drinks," recalls the splendour of these -feasts. It is called Kings' Day to commemorate the three kings of -Orient, who paid their visit to the humble manger, bringing those -first Christmas gifts of which we have any account. - -The negroes from Africa, who were brought as slaves to the West Indian -Islands, always celebrate this day with queer and fetich rites. It is -in honour of the black king Melchior whom we see in the pictures "from -Afric's sunny fountains." - -The Twelfth-Night cake, crowned with candles, is cut and eaten with -many ceremonies on this occasion. The universality of Christmas is its -most remarkable feature. Trace it as one will to the ancient -Saturnalia, this universality is still inexplicable. It long antedates -the Christian era. The distinctly modern customs are the giving of -gifts, and the good eating, which, if followed back, we find to have -been gluttony among the Norsemen. - -To the older members of the family the day is a sad one. The little -verse at the head of the chapter recalls the fact that for every child -gone back to heaven, there is one Christingle less. But if it will -bring the rich to the poor, if it will not forget a single legend or -grace, if the holly and evergreen will breathe the sweetest and -highest significance, if we can remember that every simple festival at -Christmas which makes the hearth-stone brighter is a tribute to the -highest wisdom, if we connect Christmas and humanity, then shall we -keep it aright. For the world unlocks its heart on every Christmas Day -as it has done for eighteen Christian centuries. The cairn of -Christmas memories rises higher and higher as the dear procession of -children, those constantly arriving, precious pilgrims from the -unknown world, halts by the majestic mountain to receive gifts, giving -more than they take. For what would Christmas be without the children? - - - - -CERTAIN PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS. - - -The rules laid down in books of etiquette may seem preposterously -elaborate and absurd to the denizens of cities, and to those who have -had the manual of society at their fingers' ends from childhood, but -they may be like the grammar of an unknown tongue to the youth or -maiden whose life has been spent in seclusion or a rustic -neighbourhood. As it is the aim of this unpretending volume to assist -such young people, a few hints to young men coming fresh from life on -the plains, or from an Eastern or Western college, from any life which -has separated them from the society of ladies, may not be considered -impertinent. - -A young man on coming into a great city, or into a new place where he -is not known, should try to bring a few letters of introduction. If he -can bring such a letter to any lady of good social position, he has -nothing further to do but deliver it, and if she takes him up and -introduces him, his social position is made. But this good fortune -cannot always be commanded. Young men often pass through a lonely life -in a great city, never finding that desired opportunity. - -To some it comes through a friendship on the tennis ground, at the -clubs, or through business. If a friend says to some ladies that -Tilden is a good fellow, Tilden will be sought out and invited. It is -hardly creditable to any young man to live in a great city without -knowing the best ladies' society. He should seek to do so, and -perhaps the simplest way would be for him to ask some friend to take -him about and to introduce him. Once introduced, Tilden should be -particular not to transcend the delicate outlines of social suffrance. -He must not immediately rush into an intimacy. - -A call should never be too long. A woman of the world says that one -hour is all that should be granted to a caller. This rule is a good -one for an evening visit. It is much better to have one's hostess -wishing for a longer visit than to have her sigh that you should go. -In a first visit, a gentleman should always send in his card. After -that he may dispense with that ceremony. - -A gentleman, for an evening visit, should always be in evening dress, -black cloth dress-coat, waistcoat, and trousers, faultless linen and -white cravat, silk stockings, and polished low shoes. A black cravat -is permissible, but it is not full dress. He should carry a crush hat -in his hand, and a cane if he likes. For a dinner-party a white cravat -is indispensable; a man must wear it then. No jewelry of any kind is -fashionable, excepting rings. Men hide their watch chains, in evening -dress. - -The hands should be especially cared for, the nails carefully cut and -trimmed. No matter how big or how red the hand is, the more masculine -the better. Women like men to look manly, as if they could drive, row, -play ball, cricket, perhaps even handle the gloves. - -A gentleman's dress should be so quiet and so perfect that it will not -excite remark or attention. Thackeray used to advise that a -watering-pot should be applied to a new hat to take off the gloss. The -suspicion of being dressed up defeats an otherwise good toilet. - -We will suppose that Tilden becomes sufficiently well acquainted to -be asked to join a theatre party. He must be punctual at the -rendezvous, and take as a partner whomever the hostess may assign him, -but in the East he must not offer to send a carriage; that must come -from the giver of the party. In this, Eastern and Western etiquette -are at variance, for in certain cities in the West and South a -gentleman is expected to call in a carriage, and take a young lady to -a party. To do this would be social ruin in Europe, nor is it allowed -in Boston or New York. If, however, Tilden wishes to give a theatre -party, he must furnish everything. He first asks a lady to _chaperon_ -his party. He must arrange that all meet at his room, or a friend's -house. He must charter an omnibus or send carriages for the whole -party; he must buy the tickets. He is then expected to invite his -party to sup with him after the theatre, making the feast as handsome -as his means allow. This is a favourite and proper manner for a young -man to return the civilities offered him. It is indispensable that he -should have the mother of one of the young ladies present. The custom -of having such a party with only a very young _chaperon_ has fallen, -properly, into disrepute. And it seems almost unnecessary to say so, -except that the offence has been committed. - -A man should never force himself into any society, or go anywhere -unasked. Of course, if he be taken by a lady, she assumes the -responsibility, and it is an understood thing that a leader of society -can take a young man anywhere. She is his sponsor. - -In the early morning a young man should wear the heavy, loosely -fitting English clothes now so fashionable, but for an afternoon -promenade with a lady, or for a reception, a frock coat tightly -buttoned, gray trousers, a neat tie, and plain gold pin is very good -form. This dress is allowed at a small dinner in the country, or for a -Sunday tea. - -If men are in the Adirondacks, if flannel is the only wear, there is -no dressing for dinner; but in a country house, where there are -guests, it is better to make a full evening toilet, unless the hostess -gives absolution. There should always be some change, and clean linen, -a fresh coat, fresh shoes, etc., donned even in the quiet retirement -of one's own home. Neatness, a cold bath every morning, and much -exercise in the open air are among the admirable customs of young -gentlemen of the present day. If every one of them, no matter how -busy, how hard-worked, could come home and dress for dinner, it would -be a good habit. Indeed, if all American men, like all English men, -would show this attention to their wives, society would be far more -elegant. A man always expects his wife to dress for him; why should he -not dress for her? He is then ready for evening visits, operas, -parties, theatres, wherever he may wish to go. No man should sit down -to a seven o'clock dinner unless freshly dressed. - -If Tilden can afford to keep a tilbury, or a dog-cart, and fine -horses, so much the better for him. He can take a young girl to drive, -if her mamma consents; but a servant should sit behind; that is -indispensable. The livery and the whole turnout should be elegant, but -not flashy, if Tilden would succeed. As true refinement comes from -within, let him read the noble description of Thackeray:-- - -"What is it to be a gentleman? Is it to be honest, to be gentle, to be -generous, to be true, to be brave, to be wise, and possessing all -these qualities to exercise them in the most gentle manner? Ought a -gentleman to be a loyal son, a true husband, and honest father? Ought -his life to be decent, his bills to be paid, his tastes to be high and -elegant? Yes, a thousand times yes!" - -Young men who come to a great city to live are sometimes led astray by -the success of gaudy adventurers who do not fall within the lines of -the above description, men who get on by means of enormous impudence, -self-assurance, audacity, and plausible ways. But if they have -patience and hold to the right, the gentleman will succeed, and the -adventurer will fail. No such man lasts long. Give him rope enough, -and he will soon hang himself. - -It is not necessary here to refer to the etiquette of clubs. They are -self-protecting. A man soon learns their rules and limitations. A man -of honesty and character seldom gets into difficulty at his club. If -his club rejects or pronounces against him, however, it is a social -stigma which it is hard to wipe out. - -A young man should lose no opportunity of improving himself. Works of -art are a fine means of instruction. He should read and study in his -leisure hours, and frequent picture galleries and museums. A young man -becomes the most agreeable of companions if he brings a keen fresh -intelligence, refined tastes, and a desire to be agreeable into -society. Success in society is like electricity,--it makes itself -felt, and yet is unseen and indescribable. - -It is a nice thing if a man has some accomplishment, such as music or -elocution, and to be a good dancer is almost indispensable. Yet many a -man gets on without any of these. - -It is a work-a-day world that we live in, and the whole formation of -our society betrays it. Then dress plainly, simply, and without -display. A gentleman's servants often dress better than their master, -and yet nothing is so distinctive as the dress of a gentleman. It is -as much a costume of nobility as if it were the velvet coat which Sir -Walter Raleigh threw down before Queen Elizabeth. - -It may not be inappropriate here to say a word or two on minor points. -In addressing a note to a lady, whom he does not know well, Tilden -should use the third person, as follows:-- - - Mr. Tilden presents his compliments to Mrs. Montgomery and - begs to know if she and Miss Montgomery will honor him with - their company at a theatre party in the evening of April 3d, - at the Chestnut Street Theatre. - R. S. V. P. 117 South Market Place. - -This note should be sealed with wax, impressed with the writer's coat -of arms or some favourite device, and delivered by a private messenger -who should wait for an answer. In addressing a letter to a gentleman, -the full title should be used,--"Walter Tilden, Esq.," or, first name -not known, "---- Tilden, Esq.," never, "Mr. Walter Tilden." If it be -an invitation, it is not etiquette to say "Mister." - -In writing in the first person, Tilden must not be too familiar. He -must make no elisions or contractions, but fill out every word and -line, as if it were a pleasure. - -It is urged against us by foreigners, that the manners of men toward -women partake of the freedom of the age; that they are not -sufficiently respectful. But, if careless in manner, American men are -the most chivalrous at heart. - -At a ball a young man can ask a friend to present him to a lady who is -chaperoning a young girl, and through her he can be presented to the -young girl. No man should, however, introduce another man without -permission. If he is presented and asks the girl to dance, a short -walk is permitted before he returns his partner to the side of the -_chaperon_. But it is bad manners for the young couple to disappear -for a long time. No man should go into a supper-room alone, or help -himself while ladies remain unhelped. - -To get on in society involves so much that can never be written down -that any manual is of course imperfect; for no one can predict who -will succeed and who will fail. Bold and arrogant people--"cheeky" -people--succeed at first, modest ones in the long run. It is a -melancholy fact that the most objectionable persons do get into -fashionable society. It is to be feared that the possession of wealth -is more desired than the possession of any other attribute; that much -is forgiven in the rich man which would be rank heresy in the poor -one. - -We would not, however, advise Tilden to choose his friends from the -worldly point simply, either of fashion or wealth. He should try to -find those who are well bred, good, true, honourable, and generous. -Wherever they are, such people are always good society. - -In the ranks of society we find sometimes the ideal gentleman. Society -may not have produced so good a crop as it should have done; yet its -false aims have not yet dazzled all men out of the true, the ideal -breeding. There are many clubs; but there are some admirable -Crichtons,--men who can think, read, study, work, and still be -fashionable. - -A man should go through the fierce fires of social competition, and -yet not be scorched. All men have not had that fine, repressive -training, which makes our navy and army men such gentlemen. The -breeding of the young men of fashion is not what their grandfathers -would have called good. They sometimes have a severe and bored -expression when called on to give up a selfish pleasure. One asks, -"Where are their manners?" - -Breeding, cultivation, manners, must start from the heart. The old -saying that it takes three generations to make a gentleman makes us -ask, How many does it take to unmake one? Some young and well-born men -seem to be undoing the work of the three generations, and to have -inherited nothing of a great ancestor but his bad manners. An American -should have the best manners. He has had nothing to crush him; he is -unacquainted with patronage, which in its way makes snobs, and no one -loves a snob, least of all the man whom the snob cultivates. - -The word "gentleman" although one of the best in the language, should -not be used too much. Be a gentleman, but talk about a man. A man -avoids display and cultivates simplicity, neatness, and fitness of -things, if he is both a man and a gentleman. - - - - -COMPARATIVE MERITS OF AMERICAN AND FOREIGN MODES OF ENTERTAINING. - - -There is no better old saw in existence than that comparisons are -odious; they are not only odious, but they are nearly if not quite -impossible. For instance, if we compare a dinner in London with a -dinner in New York, we must say, Whose dinner? What dinner? If we -compare New York with Paris, we must say, What Paris? Shall we take -the old Catholic aristocracy of the Faubourg St. Germain, or the -upstart social spheres of the Faubourg St. Honore and the Chaussee -d'Antin? Or shall we take _Tout Paris_, with its thousand -ramifications, with its literary and artistic salons, the _Tout Paris -mondain_, the _Tout Paris artiste_, the _Tout Paris des Premieres_, -and all the rest of that heterogeneous crowd, any fragment of which -could swallow up the "four hundred," and all its works? - -Shall we attempt to compare New York or Washington with London, with -its four millions, its Prince of Wales set, its old and sober -aristocracy of cultivated people, whose ideas of refinement, culture, -and of all the traditions of good society date back a thousand years? -Would it be fair, either, to attempt to say which part of this vast -congeries should be taken as the sample end, and which part of America -with its new civilization should be compared with any or all of -these? - -Therefore any thoughts which follow must be merely apologized for, as -the rapid observations of a traveller, who, in seeing many countries, -has loved her own the best, and who puts down these fleeting -impressions, merely with a hope to benefit her own, even if sometimes -criticising it. - -Twenty years ago, Justin McCarthy, than whom there has been no better -international critic, wrote an immortal paper called, "English and -American Women Compared." It was perhaps the most complimentary, and -we are therefore bound to say the fairest, description of our women -ever given to the world. It came at a time when the American girl was -being served up by Ouida, the American senator by Anthony Trollope, -and the American _divorcee_ by Victorien Sardou, in "L'Oncle Sam." -There was never a moment when the American needed a friend more. - -In that gentle, yet pungent paper, Mr. McCarthy refers to our -extravagance, our love of display, our superficial criticisms of the -merits of English literary women, judged from the standpoint of dress, -and of a singular underlying snobbery which he observed in a few, who -wished that the days of titles and of aristocratic customs could come -back to the land where Thomas Jefferson tied his horse to the Capitol -palings, when he went up to take the Presidential oath. Since that -paper was written what a flood of prosperity has deluged the land; -what a stride has been made in all the arts of entertaining! What -houses we possess; what dinners we give! - -What would Horace Walpole say, could he see the collections of some of -our really poor people, not to mention those of our billionnaires? -Should he go out to dinner in New York, the master of Strawberry Hill -and the first great collector could see more curious old furniture, -more hawthorn vases, more antique teapots, more rare silver, and more -_chiffons_ than he had ever dreamed of; he could see the power which a -young, vigorous nation possesses when it takes a kangaroo trick of -leaping backward into antiquity, or forward into strange countries, -and what it can bring home from its constant globe-trotting, in -exchange for some of its own silver and gold. He would also see the -power which art has possessed over a nation so suddenly rich that one -reads with alarm the axiom of Taine, "When a nation has reached its -highest point of prosperity, and begins to decay, then blossoms the -consummate flower of art." - -We need not go so far back as Horace Walpole; it even astonishes the -collector of last year to find that he must come to New York to buy -back his Japanese bronzes, and his Capo di Monte, his Majolica and -peach-blow vase. We may say that we have the oldest of arts, that of -entertaining, wrested from the hands of the oldest of nations, and -placed almost recklessly in the hands of the youngest,--as one would -take a delicate musical instrument from the hands of a master and put -it in the hands of a child. What wonder if in the first essay some -chords are missed, some discords struck? Then we must remember that -modern life is passing, slowly but decidedly, through a great -revolution, now nearly achieved. The relation of equality is gradually -eclipsing every other,--that of inequality, where it does survive, -taking on its least noble form, as most things do in their decay. In -Europe there is still deference to title, although the real power of -feudalism was broken by Louis XI. Its shadow remains even in -republican France, where if a man has not a title he is apt to buy or -to steal one. On this side of the Atlantic there is a deference paid -to wealth, however obtained. This is a much greater strain upon -character, a more vulgar form of snobbery than the reverence for -title; for a title means that sometime, no matter how long ago, some -one lived nobly and won his spurs. - -We may therefore assume that the great necromancer Prosperity, with -his wand, luxury, has suddenly placed our new nation, if not on a -footing with the old, certainly as a new knight in the field, whose -prowess deserves that he should be mentioned. Or, to change the -metaphor, we can imagine some spread-eagle orator comparing us to a -David who with his smooth stones from the brook, dug up in California -and Nevada, is giving all modern Goliaths a crack in the forehead. -When we come to make a comparison, however, let us narrow this down to -the giving of a dinner in London, in distinction to giving a dinner in -any city in America, and see what our giant can do. - -London possesses a regular system of society, a social citadel, around -which rally those whose birth, title, and character are all -well-known. It is conscious of an identity of interest, which compacts -its members, with the force of cement, into a single corporation. - -The queen and her drawing-room, the Prince of Wales and his set, the -royal family, the nobility and gentry, what is called the aristocracy -form a core to this apple, and this central idea goes through all its -juices. - -Think what it must mean to a man to read that he is descended from -Harry Hotspur, Bolingbroke, Clarendon, Sidney, Spenser, Cecil. Imagine -what it must have been to have known the men who daily gathered around -the tables of the famous dinner-givers. Imagine what the dinners at -Holland House were, and then compare such a dinner with one which any -American could give. And yet, improbable as it may seem, the American -dinner might be the more amusing. The American dinner would have far -more flowers; it would be in a brighter room; it would be more -"talky," perhaps,--but it could not be so well worth going to. In -England, in the greater as well as in the simpler houses, there is a -respect for intellect, for intelligence, that we have not. It is the -fashion to invite the man or the woman who has done something to meet -the most worshipful company, and the young countess just beginning to -entertain would receive from her grandmother, who entertained Lord -Byron, this advice, "My dear, always have a literary man, or an artist -in your set." - -The humblest literary man who has done anything well is immediately -sought out and is asked to dinner; and the artist of merit, in music, -painting, architecture, literature, is sure of recognition in London. -One is almost always sure to see, at a grand dinner in London, some -quiet elderly woman, who receives the attention of the most -distinguished guests, and one learns that she is Mrs. So-and-So, who -has written a story, or a few hymns. - -In this respect for the best part of us, our brains, the London -dinner-giver has shown his thousand years of civilization; he is -playing the harp like a master. - -To return for a moment to the criticism of Justin McCarthy. He says in -it, that while he admired the American taste in dress, he could not -admire a certain confusion of mind, by which an otherwise kindly and -well-informed American woman misjudged a person who preferred to go -plain, or shabby, if you will. In fact, he stood up for the right -which every English woman will claim as her own, "to be dowdy," if she -will. The Queen has taught her this. While the Princess of Wales, the -younger daughters of the Queen, and much of the fashion of London -dresses itself in Paris, and is consequently very smart, there is -still a class who look down on clothes and consider them a small -matter. Perhaps that is the reason why such stringent regulations are -laid down for the court dress. - -Magnificent, stately, and well-ordered, are the dinners of London,--a -countess at the head of the table, a footman behind each chair, in -great houses a very fine dinner, and splendid pieces of plate, some -old china, pictures on the wall from the pencils of Rembrandt, Rubens, -Van Dyck, Gainsborough, and Sir Joshua. Sweet, low-voiced, and -well-bred are the women, with beautiful necks, and shoulders, and fine -heads. The men are they who are doing the work of the world in the -House of Lords, the House of Commons, in India, in Egypt, in the -Soudan; there is a multiplicity of topics of conversation. No English -stiffness exists at the dinner, and there is always present some -literary man or woman, some famous artist as the _piece de -resistance_; such are the dinners of London. - -The luncheons are simpler, and here one is sure to meet men advanced -in thought, and women of ideas, and there is no question as to the -rent-roll. Wealth has absolutely nothing to do with society success in -London. - -We might mention many a literary and artistic _salon_, over which -charming and fascinating, young and fashionable women preside with the -mingled grace, which adds a beauty and a meaning to Emerson's famous -_mot_ that "fashion is funded politeness." We might mention many a -literary or artistic man or woman of London, who is the favoured -friend of these great ladies, who would, if an American, never be -asked to a luncheon at Newport, or admitted to a ball at Delmonico's, -because he was not fashionable. It would not occur to the gay -entertainers to think that such a person would be desirable. - -Paris, as the land of the _mot_ and the epigram, has always had a -great attraction for literary people. Carlyle said of England that it -was composed of sixty millions of people, mostly fools. His own -experience as a favoured guest at Lady Ashburton's, and other great -houses, ought to have modified his decision. In America, the Carlyles -would have been called "queer," and probably left out. In England, it -is a recommendation to be "queer," original, thoughtful. In that -bubble which rises to the top, to which Mr. McAllister has given the -name "the four hundred," it is not a recommendation to be queer, -original, or thoughtful. - -That some men and women of genius have commanded success in society -only proves the rule; that some people of fashion have become writers, -and painters, and poets, and have still kept their foothold, is only -the exception. - -Charles Astor Bristed, born to fortune and fashion, declared that what -he gained in prestige in England by becoming an author, he lost in -America. What woman of fashion goes out of her way to find the man of -letters who writes the striking editorials in a morning paper in New -York? In London, a dozen coroneted notes await such a lucky fellow. -Perhaps the most curious instance of the awkward handling of that rare -and valuable instrument, which we call the art of entertaining in -America, is the deliberate ignoring of the best element of a dinner -party,--the hitherto unknown, or the well-known man of brains. This -distinguishes our entertaining from that of foreigners. - -The best society we have in America is that at Washington; the -President's house is the palace. He and his ministers, and the judges -of the Supreme Court, the officers of the army and navy, are our -aristocracy,--a simple, unpretending one, but as real in its social -laws and organization as any in the world. And there intellect reigns. -The dinners at Washington, having a kind of precedence, reinforced by -intelligence, independent of wealth, and regardless of the arbitrary -rules of a self-elected leadership, are the most agreeable in this -country, if not in the world. We have said there are many sorts of -Paris, and so there are many sorts of America. It must not be supposed -that clever people do not get together, and that there are not dinners -of the brightest and the best. Outside the "four hundred" there is a -group of fifty thousand or more, who have travelled, thought, and -read, experienced, and learned how to give a good dinner,--a witty -dinner. - -I use the term "four hundred" as a convenient alias for that for which -Americans have no other name; that is, the particular reigning set in -every city, every small village. In Paris, republic as it is, there is -still a very decided aristocracy. There is the Duchesse Rochefaucauld -Bisaccia, and the eccentric Duchesse d'Uzes, and so on, who are -decidedly the four hundred. There are the very wealthy Jews, like the -Rothschilds, who are much to be commended for their recognition of the -supremacy of art and letters. They have become the protectors of these -classes commercially, and their intelligent wives have made their -_salons_ delightful, by bringing in men of culture and talent. On -Sundays the Comtesse Potocka, who wears the best pearls in Paris, -tries to revive the traditions of the Hotel Rambouillet, in her -beautiful hotel in the Avenue Friedland. Her guests are De Maupassant, -Ratisbonne, Coquelin, the painter Berand, and other men of wit. The -Baroness de Poilly has a tendency to refine Bohemianism and is an -indefatigable pleasure seeker. The only people she will not receive -are the financiers and the heavy-witted. The Comtesse de Beaumont says -that the key to her house is "wit and intellect without regard to -party, caste, or school." Carolus Duran, Alphonse Daudet, the -painters, whoever is at the head of music, literature, or the dramatic -art, is welcomed there. - -The princes of the House of Orleans, are most prominent in their -attentions to people of talent. The Princesse Mathilde has a house in -the Rue de Berri full of exquisite pictures by the old masters, and a -few of the modern school. Her _salon_ is a model of comfort and -refined elegance, and at her Sunday receptions, where one meets the -world, are men distinguished in diplomacy, art, and letters. - -But what simple dinners, as to meat and drink, do any of these great -people give, compared to the dinners which are given constantly in New -York,--dinners which are banquets, but to which the young -_litterateur_ or painter would not be invited! That is to say, in -London and in Paris the fashionable woman who would make her party -more fashionable, courts the literary and artistic guild; as a guild, -the fashionable woman in America does not court them. - -It may be said that this is an unfair presentation of the case, -because in London there may be patronage on one side, while in America -there is perfect equality, and the literary man is a greater -aristocrat than the fashionable woman who gives the party. This is in -one sense true, for the professions have all the honour here. The -journalists are often the men who give the party. The witty lawyer is -the most honoured guest everywhere; so are certain _litterateurs_. - -People who have become rich suddenly, who wish to be leaders, to have -gay, young, well-dressed guests at their dinners, do not desire the -company of any but their own kind. Yet they try to emulate the dinners -of London, and are surprised when some English critic finds their -entertainments dull, flat, and unprofitable, overloaded and vulgar. -The same young, gay, rich dancing set in London would have asked -Robert Browning to the dinner, merely as a matter of fashion. And it -is this fashion which is commendable. It improves society. - -The social recognition of the dramatic profession is not here what it -is in England or France. There is no Lady Burdett Coutts to take Mr. -Irving off on her yacht. No actor here has the social position which -Mr. Irving has in London. Who ever heard of society running after Mr. -John Gilbert, one of the most respectable men of his profession, as -well as a consummate actor? - -In London, duchesses and countesses run after Mr. Toole; he is a -darling of society. Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft have done much to help their -profession and themselves by taking the initiative, and giving -delightful little evenings. But it is vastly more common, to see many -of the leading actors and actresses in society in London than in New -York. Indeed, it is the custom abroad to ask, "what has he done, what -can he do?" rather than, "how much is he worth?" The actor is valued -for what he is doing. Perhaps our system of equality is somewhat to -blame for this, and the woman of fashion may wait for the dramatic -artist to take the initiative and call on her. But we know that any -one who should urge this would be talking nonsense. In our system of -entertaining in a gay city, it is the richest who reigns, and although -there are some people who can still boast a grandfather, it is the -new-comer who is the arbiter of fashion. Such a person could, in -London or Paris or Rome, merely as a fashionable fad, invite the -artist or the writer to make her party complete. In America she would -not do it, unless the man of genius were a lion, a foreigner, a -novelty. Then she would do so, and perhaps run after him too much. - -And now, as we have been treating of a very small, unimportant, and to -the great American world, unknown quantity, the reigning set in any -city, let us look at the matter from within. Have we individually -considered the merits of the festive plenty which crowns our table, -relatively to the selection of the company which is gathered around -it? - -Have we in any of our cities those _dejeuners d'esprit_, as in Paris, -where certain witty women invite other witty women to come and talk of -the last new novel? Have we counted on that possible Utopia where men -and women meet and talk, to contribute of their best thought to the -entertaining? Have we many houses to which we are asked to a banquet -of wit? Are there many opulent people who can say, The key to my house -is wit and intellect, and character, without regard to party, caste or -school? If such a house can be found, its owner has, all other things -being equal, conquered the art of entertaining. - -Now, all people of talent are not personages of society. To be that, -one must have good manners, know how to dress one's self and respect -the usages of society. We should not like to meet Dr. Johnson at a -ball, but it is very rare to find people nowadays, however learned, -however retired, however gifted, who have discarded as he did, the -decencies of deportment. The far greater evil of depriving society of -its backbone should be balanced against this lesser danger. - -There are literary and artistic and academic _salons_ in Paris, which -are the most interesting places to the foreigner, which might be -copied in every university town of America, to the infinite advantage -of society. A fashionable young woman of Paris never misses these, or -the lectures, or her Thursday at the Comedie Francaise where she hears -the classic plays of Moliere and even Shakspeare. It makes her a very -agreeable talker, although her culture may not be very deep. She is -not a bit less particular as to the number of buttons on her gloves, -or the becomingness of her dress, because she has given a few hours to -her mental development. In America, we have thoughtful women, gifted -women, brilliant women, but we rarely have the combination which we -see in France, of all this with fashion. - -When this young and fashionable hostess gives a dinner, or an evening, -she invites Coquelin and some of his witty compeers, and she talks -over Moliere with the men who understand him best. - -It is possible that French _litterateurs_ care more for society than -their American brothers. They go into it more, and at splendid dinners -in Paris I remember the writers for the "Figaro," as most desirable -guests. The presence of members of the French Academy, for instance, -is much courted, and as feminine influence plays a considerable _role_ -in the Academy elections, it is advisable for playwrights, novelists, -and aspiring writers generally to cultivate influential relations with -a view to the future. However this may be, literature and art are more -highly honoured socially in Paris than in America, and men of letters -lead a very joyous existence, dining and being dined, and making a -dinner delightfully brilliant. - -The artists of Paris have become such magnates, living in sumptuous -houses and giving splendid fetes, that it is hardly possible to speak -of their being left out; they are mostly agreeable men,--Carolus Duran -and Bonnat especially. But painters, especially portrait painters, are -always favourites in all fashionable society. - -The French women talk much about being in the "movement" which to the -American ear may be translated the "swim." They follow every picture -exhibition, can quote from the "Figaro" what is going on, they -criticise the last play, the last new novel, they do much hard work, -but they seek out and honour the man of brains, known or unknown, who -has made a fine play or novel. - -Every woman in America may take a lesson in entertaining from the old -world, and strive to combine this respect for both conditions, the -luxury which feeds, and the brain which illuminates. A house should be -at once a pleasure and a force,--a force to sustain the struggling, as -well as a pleasure to the prosperous. - -A merely sumptuous buffet, a check sent to Delmonico for a "heavy -feed" does not master that great art, which has illuminated the -noblest chapters in the history of our race, and led to the most -complete improvement in the continuous development of mankind. Without -each other we become savages, with the conquering of the art of -entertaining we reach the highest triumphs of civilization. - -It is a progressive art, while those that we have worshipped stand -still. No architect of our day, even when revealing the inner conceit -which cynics say possesses all minds, would hope to surpass the -builders of the Parthenon, no carver of marble hopes to reach Phidias, -no painter dares to measure his brush with Raphael, Titian, or -Velasquez. "In Asia art has been declining for ages; the Moor of Fez -would hardly recognize what his race did in Granada; the Indian -Mussulman gazes at the Pearl Mosque as if the genii had built it; the -Persians buy their own old carpets; and the Japanese confess, with a -sigh, that their own old ceramic work cannot be equalled now." In all -art there is "despair of advance," except in the art of entertaining. - -That is always new and always progressive; there is no end to the -originality which may be brought to bear upon it. This rule should be -constantly enforced. A hostess must take pains and trouble to give her -house a colour, an originality, and a type of its own. She must put -brains into her entertaining. - -We have begun this little book, somewhat bumptiously perhaps, with an -account of our physical resources. Let us pursue the same strain as to -our mental wealth. We have not only witty after-dinner speakers--in -that, let no country hope to rival us--amongst our lawyers, -journalists, and literary men, but we have our clergy. It would be -difficult to find any hamlet in the United States where there is not -one agreeable clergyman, more often three or four. - -The best addition to a company is an accomplished divine, who knows -that his mission is for two worlds. He need not be any the less the -ambassador to the next, of which we know so little, because he is a -pleasant resident and improver of this world, of which many of us feel -that we know quite enough. The position of a popular clergyman is a -peculiar and a dangerous one, for he is expected to be merry with one, -and sad with another, at all hours of the day. Next to the doctor, we -confide in him, and the call on his sympathies might well make a man -doubtful whether any of his emotions are his own. - -But the scholarship, the communing with high ideas, the relationship -to his flock, all tend to the formation of that type of man which we -call the agreeable, and America is extremely rich in this eminent aid -to the art of entertaining. As a Roman Catholic bishop once observed, -"As a part of my duty, I must make myself agreeable in society;" and -so must every clergyman. - -And to say truth, we have few examples of a disagreeable clergyman. -While his cloth surrounds him with reverence and respect, his fertile -brain, ready wit, and cheerful co-operation in the pleasure of the -moment, will be like a finer education and a purifying atmosphere. -From the days of Chrysostom to Sydney Smith the clergy should be known -as the golden-mouthed. The American mind, brilliant, rapid, and clear, -the American speech, voluble, ready, and replete, the talent for -repartee, rapier-like with so many of our orators, and the quick wit -which seems to be born of our oxygen, all this, added to the -remarkable beauty and tact of our women, of which all the world is -talking, and which the young aristocrats of the old world seem to be -quite willing to appropriate, makes splendid provision for a dinner, a -reception, an afternoon tea, or a ball. - -We sometimes hear complaints of the insufficiency of society, and that -our best men will not go into it. If there is such an insufficiency, -it is because we have too much sufficiency, we are struggling with the -overplus, often as great an embarrassment as the too little. It is -somebody's fault if we have not learned to play on this "harp of a -thousand strings." - -We need not heed the criticism of the world, snobbishly; we are a -great nation, and can afford to make our own laws. But we should ask -of ourselves the question, whether or not we are too lavish, too fond -of display, too much given to overfeeding, too fond of dress, too much -concerned with the outside of things; we should take the best ideas of -all nations in regard to the progressive art, the art of entertaining. - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - - Inconsistent hyphenation, diacritical marks and spelling in the - original document have been preserved. Obvious typographical - errors have been corrected. - - The quote starting on page 13, "Viticulture in Algeria", does not - have an ending quote mark. - - On page 117, "spatch-cooked" should possibly be "spatch-cocked". - - On page 160, "gormandize" should possibly be "gourmandize". - - The chapter starting on page 176 is called "Receipts" in the Contents - and "Recipes" in the text. - - On page 193, "gargonzala" should possibly be "gorgonzola". - - On page 310, "boaston" should possibly be "boston". - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF ENTERTAINING*** - - -******* This file should be named 41632.txt or 41632.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/1/6/3/41632 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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