What to Eat
How to Serve it

BY

CHRISTINE TERHUNE HERRICK
AUTHOR OF "HOUSEKEEPING MADE EASY"
"CRADLE AND NURSERY" ETC.

NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
1891

Copyright, 1891, by Harper & Brothers.

All rights reserved.

CONTENTS

What to Eat
How to Serve it

THE DINING-ROOM

THE apartment in which the members of a family assemble three times a day for meals must be pleasant. There is a chance to escape from any other part of the house. The business man rarely sees his drawing-room until after the shades are drawn and the lamps lighted. The wife and mother divides her time between nursery, sewing-room, and kitchen, while school-children are out of the house nearly as much as they are in it—at least during their waking hours. But no matter how widely the little flock may be scattered by their different employments, always twice and often three times a day they are all together in this common rallying-place of the home.

Only in the houses of the wealthy, or of those possessed of exceptionally large dwellings, is there found a breakfast-room other than that in which are eaten all the meals of the family. English mansions frequently possess both a family and a state dining-room, and the same custom prevails in some of the private palaces of our own millionaires; but in the average American home one room must do duty for every repast, whether simple or superb; and in our large cities this apartment is too likely, alas! to be situated in the basement.

The immeasurable superiority of a dining-room built above-ground over one even partially beneath it hardly needs demonstration—it is more cheerful, more airy, and as a consequence more healthful, better lighted, of finer proportions, and more susceptible of effective decoration and furnishing—the advantages might be continued ad infinitum. No one who has ever had the pleasure of using an up-stairs dining-room can contentedly descend to one below the level of the street. Apart from every other consideration, such rooms are very liable to be damp. It is not uncommon to have carpets grow musty and mouldy on their floors, or to find a perceptible dampness on their walls. These faults may be to some extent remedied by a layer of thick felt paper under the carpet, and by good fires and constant and thorough ventilation.

A few housekeepers express their preference for basement dining-rooms because of the nearness of these to the kitchen, and the work saved thereby. This is an important consideration in houses where but one maid is kept. Her work as cook and waitress is almost doubled when she has to run up-stairs to remove the dishes from the dumb-waiter, and then fly back to her kitchen between the intervals of waiting on the table. In the country and in country towns it is the rule rather than the exception to find the kitchen in the L, or as an extension, and on the same floor with the dining-room and parlor, but in the majority of city houses the apartment in which the family gathers at meal-times is a little below ground. When this is the case, and when there is no possibility of converting the back parlor up-stairs into a dining-room by introducing a dumb-waiter and pantry, or when expediency or want of space precludes such a change, the best must be made of existing circumstances, and the efforts redoubled to render the despised basement as pleasant as possible.

The wall-paper must never be dark in a room like this, which at the best of times is never too light. Choose instead a creamy ground well covered with some small figure, or, better still, an ingrain paper of a solid color—a soft gray, a pale green, a cream, or one of those indescribable neutral tints that make good backgrounds, and furnish well but not obtrusively.

Unless the room is wainscoted with wood, a very pretty and inexpensive substitute can be made of India matting, secured at the top by a narrow band of wood moulding. The matting can be washed off with salt and water whenever it needs cleansing. An excellent plan is that of having the walls done in hard finish, and then painting this. The surface can then be scoured as often as it becomes stained or specked, and will always look neat and fresh. An additional coat of paint can be put on when the first becomes worn or faded.

In a rented house the tenants must, of course, take what they can get, and in many cases the landlord is unwilling to make changes. Still, pretty pictures, draperies, neat furniture, and a well-set table will do wonders, even for a room that appears unpromising at the outset.

It never pays to purchase an expensive carpet for the ordinary dining-room. Something durable should be selected, like an ingrain of a mixed color, or with a minute, closely-set figure. Better still is a rug, an art square, or a Smyrna rug, neither of which is high-priced, while either is satisfactory both in appearance and in wearing qualities.

The floor should be stained or painted, for a distance of from two to three feet from the wall all around the room, in a neat dark color. Borders of wood-carpeting are handsome and last a long time, but are costly, and one does not often find hard-wood floors in a rented house. The rug may be either laid loosely or tacked down around the edges.

The draperies in a dining-room should not be heavy. Not only do such darken the room, but they catch and retain the odors of food, and hold constantly in their folds depressing reminders of former feasts. Scrim, lace, or light Madras or China silk, decorates the room and softens outlines without impeding the entrance of light or air. Shades are essential, and so should be also window-screens from the appearance of the first fly in the spring until the last one has vanished in the fall.

An open fireplace in a dining-room is unsurpassed for cheer and comfort there, as it is everywhere. A screen should always be in readiness to temper the glow and glare while the family are at meals. The chimney is a potent aid to ventilation, and helps to disperse those odors that will collect in the best-ventilated salles à manger, and which are so appetizing before meals and so unpleasant afterwards.

Basement dining-rooms are seldom too cold. If they are heated by a register or a stove, or even by a coal fire in the grate, the constant struggle of the housekeeper is to prevent their becoming uncomfortably warm. Vicinity to the kitchen has much to do with this, and is in summer-time a serious draw-back to comfort. An equable temperature must be striven for by frequent airing at all seasons, and during the heated term by shading the windows, and by keeping, as much as possible, the doors shut that communicate with the kitchen. One advantage at least is possessed by the basement dining-room in summer. In common with the cellar, or with any other partially subterranean chamber, it is cooler than one that is above ground and thus unprotected from the hot air without.

The best method of artificially lighting a dining-room is hard to decide. Nothing is prettier or pleasanter than candle-light, and it is preferable to gas or lamps in that it does not heat a room perceptibly. But candles are expensive, if enough are used to produce a respectable illumination, and nothing is more dismal than eating by a dim light. Good candles are costly, and cheap ones not only give a poor light, but drip and smoke and smell, and are otherwise intolerable. A new style of candle has recently been introduced which is pierced through its length with three holes. These tiny pipes are supposed to carry off the melted wax, and their advocates claim that these candles will not drip on the outside.

Except on state occasions, candles are barred out for people of moderate means, and they must have recourse to lamps or gas. The light should always be suspended above the table, except, of course, where candles and candelabra or a tall-stemmed lamp are used. A side-light does not serve the purpose of a central one, for some one must always sit with his back towards it, and his plate is thus in a perpetual eclipse. Pretty hanging lamps come at all prices, but it never pays to get a cheap one. It may do very well for a time, but before long the burner will be out of order; the machinery by which the wick is turned up or down will prove refractory, and repairs will do little good. The only efficient way of mending a poor lamp is by buying a new one.

Among the best-known makes of lamps there is one with a powerful burner which gives a clear, steady flame, equal to two or three ordinary gas-jets. The only draw-back connected with it is the intense heat it radiates, which makes it objectionable in summer. Such a lamp costs about seven dollars, is furnished with a large ground-glass shade, and supplied with fixtures and a chain, by means of which it may be raised and lowered at pleasure.

Whichever is used, gas or kerosene, the glare should always be softened by a shade of some kind. Globes of ground or colored glass may be used on gas-burners, or, if they are of clear glass, the light may be subdued by the Japanese half-shades, which can be slipped over the lower half of the globe. A pretty fashion is that of fastening a Japanese umbrella, stick upwards, under the chandelier, although this darkens the table too much, unless there is a strong light above it. If any member of the family suffers from weak eyes, and is distressed by the light that is none too brilliant for the others, quaint paper-screen shades, also of Japanese make, may be hung on the side of the globe towards the sufferer. The long pliable wires attached to these shades permit them to be twisted at almost any angle. Or the fancy paper screens which imitate roses, pond-lilies, sunflowers, and the like may be hung on the globes.

There has been a good deal of discussion among furnishers as to what style of picture should be hung in a dining-room. One declares that the stereotyped paintings and engravings of fruit, fish, and fowl are the only appropriate works of art for this room; while another argues that it is enough to see the food in its prepared condition upon the table, without being forced to contemplate it in its natural state upon the walls. The wise course to follow seems to lie between the two. Really pretty pictures of game birds or fish, or of fruit or flowers, are undoubtedly in their place in a dining-room, but there is no reason why every other kind of picture should be excluded. Pastoral or marine scenes, genre pictures, almost anything except family portraits, may fitly be placed there. Their place is in the library, the sitting-room, or in the large hall, if there be one.

Nothing should hang in the dining-room that is not good of its kind. A cheap chromo, a poorly executed drawing or water-color, or an indifferent photograph annoys beyond words the unfortunate wight who has to sit opposite it for an hour or two each day.

The furniture of a dining-room should be durable, even if its owners cannot afford to have it very handsome. Cheap chairs and table are out of place here. Even those who cannot afford leather-upholstered chairs and a heavy mahogany or black-walnut or oak dining-table may get solid, durable substitutes. Cane seats for the chairs, and an unpolished top for the table, are better than showy—and cheap—elegance. A square table generally allows more space to those seated about it than does a round one. Almost any amount of money may be expended upon a sideboard, but a good one may be purchased at no great outlay. In addition to this, if space permits, there should be a table, with a shelf or two above it, to serve as a dinner-wagon. This is almost a necessity when the vegetables are passed instead of being placed on the table, and it is also useful for holding relays of clean plates, etc.

The amount of furniture that is useful and appropriate in a dining-room is of necessity limited. Besides the articles already named, there may be a china press or cabinet, an easy-chair or two, or even a sofa. The last is a boon to an invalid or convalescent, who grows weary of a long séance in a high, straight-backed chair. The couch may be forced to serve a double purpose by being made in the form of a long box, broad and low, covered with cretonne, denim, or any other durable material, and provided with a hair mattress on the top. When two or three square pillows are added to this, behold a comfortable divan, that will at the same time be a receptacle for the table-linen. Some such coffer as this is almost a must-have in a dining-room, unless the china closet is provided with drawers.

A wall cabinet for choice pieces of china is a pretty ornament for a dining-room, and so is an over-mantel. The latter may consist of two, three, or more shelves, and should be solid at the back, as small hooks may then be screwed in, upon which to hang tea or coffee cups. These shelves may extend the full length of the mantel, or occupy only part of the space. In any case they are excellent for displaying such pieces of china as one may not wish to keep concealed in the depths of a china closet. Nothing very delicate that will be injured by dust should stand here.

A corner cupboard adds to the beauty of a room, and may either be bought ready-made, or built to fit some especial corner. The lower part of the cupboard may have a solid wooden door, while glass doors for the upper part permit a view of the glass or silver stored there.

Blessed is that woman whose house contains a butler's pantry. Too often the fine china and glass must either be washed in the kitchen, or else in a dish-pan brought into the dining-room. When a pantry is lacking, there should be a butler's tray to hold the solid dishes. Such a tray may be closed, and put out of the way when not in use. A folding screen covered with Japanese pictures, with wall-paper, or with some textile fabric, may conceal the door to the pantry, or the slide by which dishes enter the dining-room, or may cut off the corner in which stands the butler's tray.

To the woman of quick wit and ready fingers countless are the opportunities provided for beautifying her dining-room. She may drape her mantel and conceal the ugly marble, using for this stamped Madras, or silkolene, both of which are pretty and cheap; she may make covers for her sideboard, rich with drawn-work and embroidery; she may set a box of growing plants in the window, and tend them, so that she may always have a vase of fresh blossoms or of green sprays for the centre of the table; and she may expend boundless energy in the manufacture of doilies, tray-cloths, and the thousand and one dainty pieces of linen dear to the housewife's soul.

AT THE BREAKFAST-TABLE

EVERYTHING in reason should be done to make the breakfast a tolerably pleasant meal. Very cheerful or jovial it seldom is. The father is in a hurry to get to his office or business, and usually buries himself in the morning paper; the children are burdened with the thought of approaching school duties; the mother is silently mapping out the line of her day's operations, and is disinclined to conversation. Add to this that all are apt to be more or less dominated by the physical depression of tone and passive discomfort so well known that one judge is fabled to have refused to ordain capital punishment for a man convicted of having committed a murder before breakfast. Until after that meal, even the best-tempered are prone to petulance, while those of a taciturn nature are quiet to the verge of what looks like sullenness.

Here, as everywhere, upon the mother devolves the burden of the family well-being. If her face is cast down and gloomy, its reflection is seen in the countenances of all those about her; while if she is bright and sunny, there is a perceptible rise in the spiritual thermometer. Only by making a positive duty of cheerfulness is it practicable sometimes for the mother to conquer the weariness and languor, the aching head, and the loathing for food, that are so frequently a woman's morning portion. The discomfort the other members of the family know is increased tenfold in her case if a restless child, an ailing baby, or worry over financial or domestic matters has robbed her of part of her night's sleep.

A good deal may be done to create an atmosphere of pleasantness by due attention to the condition of the room. Unless it has been left in spotless order the preceding evening, either the maid or one of the family must bestow some attention upon it beyond putting the breakfast on the table. No crumbs from the last repast should disfigure the carpet; no dust of yesterday's raising should be thick upon the furniture. The windows should have been open long enough to change the air of the room; then, in cold weather, been closed a sufficient length of time before the entrance of the family to allow the atmosphere to become comfortably warmed. The vase of flowers or the growing plant that ought to grace the centre of every table should have a drink of fresh water, and be ready to do its part in brightening the board. The table should be carefully set, the food well cooked, and promptly served. And, above all, there should be a sincere and conscientious endeavor on the part of each member of the household to sink his own disagreeable feelings, and to do all in his power to contribute his share towards the sum total of the family cheerfulness. Conversation on pleasant topics should be encouraged, and the items of morning news distributed to all, not monopolized by the one in possession of the paper.

No amount of accustomedness should ever induce the mistress of the house to condone carelessness on the plea that there is no one present but the family. Just because it is "only home folks," everything should be at its brightest. There is no necessity for urging the parade of pretty china, the preparation of tempting dishes, when an honored guest is to be served. Should not even more pains be taken to have everything attractive and appetizing when those are to be fed who have not the charm of novelty to act as sauce, and to whom the ordinary methods of cookery may seem stale and hackneyed?

The table should always appear at its best at breakfast-time. A colored cloth is economical as well as pretty, for it does not show every spot or splash with the readiness of a white cloth. There is a large variety of these table coverings from which the housekeeper may make her selections, ranging in beauty and price from the plain, comparatively cheap red cloth with light figures to the exquisite pieces of fine damask, gorgeous with embroidery, and with a lace-like border of drawn-work. For common daily use, the judicious choice will probably lie somewhere between these, either in a buff, a buff and scarlet, a buff and blue, or one of the beautiful Holbein cloths that come, with the dozen napkins, at about eight dollars the set. The ground in these is well covered, and they have the advantage of being nearly as pretty on the wrong side as they are on the right. Another recommendation is that they wear admirably, one at least within the writer's knowledge having been in constant use for between four and five years without showing a sign of old age, except in the thinning of the fringe, while the body of the cloth remained without a break. The delicate tints of the worked pattern will fade with frequent washing, so that blue and pink would better be avoided, and the preference given to the scarlets and buffs, which hold their own well.

The cloth is saved by the use of mats under dishes. Those of straw or wicker-work are apt to become soiled and stained, and are not readily cleansed. On the contrary, those which are knitted, netted, or crocheted may be washed every week, if necessary. It is almost impossible to find a waitress so careful that once in a while a dish will not be brought to the table with a black rim on the bottom, or wet or greasy with something spilled where it has been standing on the kitchen-table. Wherever this touches, the cloth beneath is disfigured, and it is better to protect it against such misadventures by the use of mats in the first place than to be forced to conceal the blemishes afterwards by "setting the table to humor the spots."

Worked and fringed doilies are pretty substitutes for mats, and when there is a cover of felt on the table under the damask cloth—as there should always be—they are thick enough to guard the varnished table-top from injury from the hot dishes. A carving-cloth should be spread under the meat-platter, and will generally by the close of the meal bear upon its surface eloquent testimony to the service it has done in saving the table-cloth.

While it is no sign of stinginess not to have one's best and most fragile china for constant use, poor judgment is shown when only plain heavy white ware is employed for the family when they are alone. Decorated porcelain is cheap nowadays, and makes a table look extremely pretty. Each one of the household should have his own especial oatmeal set, either the bowl, plate, and pitcher, or one of the deep saucers that come for this purpose in dark blue and white ware, with a plate to match, while the cream or milk may be held for common use in one good-sized pitcher, to be served by the mother, or passed to each, as may seem best. Every tea or coffee drinker should have his own cup and saucer, and in his imagination his favorite beverage will taste better from that cup than from any other.

There is little chance to make mistakes in setting the breakfast-table. The hostess has the tray before her, and serves the tea, coffee, or chocolate. At the other end of the table is the principal dish, presided over generally by the master of the house, while biscuit, bread, muffins, or griddle-cakes and potatoes have their posts at the sides. An oatmeal set stands at each place, accompanied by the knife, fork, and spoon, tumbler, napkin, butter-plate—unless the oatmeal course is preceded by one of fruit, when fruit plates, with fruit napkins and finger-bowls, should hold the first place.

With the fresh room, the bright cloth, the shining glass and silver, the vase of flowers, the appetizing food, one must be either very dyspeptic or a confirmed pessimist who does not feel a slight rise of spirits as he takes his place at the breakfast-table.

MORE ABOUT BREAKFAST

IN the majority of the homes where fruit is served for breakfast it appears as a first course. Countless are the headaches to which this custom has given rise among those whose stomachs resent the introduction of the acid as the earliest nourishment of the day. The choice should always be given each eater between beginning with fruit or reserving it as a final course. When it is served last it acts as a pleasant neutralizer of the solid or possibly greasy food that has been already consumed, and sends one from the table with what children call "a good taste" in the mouth.

The habit of eating some cereal for breakfast is happily becoming almost universal. There are comparatively few households in which porridge of one sort or another does not appear on the breakfast-table, and it is usually relished by both children and elders. It need not be always of oatmeal. There are numerous varieties of cereals in the market at present, and an occasional change will prevent any one's wearying of the wholesome dish. With cracked wheat, cerealine, wheat-germ meal, wheatena, wheat, oat, and Graham flakes, corn-meal mush, hominy boiled plain, hominy boiled in milk, and a number of others to choose from, there is no reason why any one should have occasion to complain of monotony. Cream adds greatly to the toothsome qualities of any one of these preparations, and may usually, even in the city, be procured in sufficient quantities to allow a modicum for each of the elders. The healthy appetites of the children rarely need this encouragement.

The tea should always be made on the table when it is possible, as by this means there need be no doubt that the water used in its concoction is actually boiling. The "loud-hissing urn" is a decided addition to the beauty and brightness of the table, especially when the "urn" is in the form of a pretty brass or copper kettle, swinging from one of the tall cranes known as a "five-o'clock tea." Some people prefer making the coffee on the table too, and this is possible when a Vienna coffee-pot or a French drip coffee-pot is used. The only trouble is that the coffee in the latter pot is apt to cool before it has stood long enough to extract the full strength of the berry.

The tea-cozy should never be lacking, and it is not a bad plan to have a similar wadded cap with which to cover the coffee-pot. One of the prettiest and best kinds of tea-cozy is the covered Japanese basket with a thick stuffed lining, in which the china teapot is set. These are not costly, and will outwear the ordinary cozy made of silk, woollen, or chamois-skin. When the lining of the basket is worn out, it may easily be renewed.

The substantial part of our American breakfast is not marked by much variety. At nearly all of them will be found the steak, chops, or cutlets, varied once in a while by fish, a hash, or a stew, semi-occasionally by a dish of eggs. Potatoes in some form—stewed, baked, boiled, or fried—are in order, and these are flanked by a plate of hot biscuit or muffins, or oftenest by successive instalments of griddle-cakes.

There is no use in adding further to the diatribes that have been written and spoken against the American breakfast. Such as it is, it appears to be here to stay, and it is a waste of time, breath, and energy to attempt a radical reform. All one can hope to do is possibly to modify it, and lighten its sameness by suggesting dishes that may please the palate and not impair the digestion. The adoption of the Continental breakfast has been vainly urged, and it is an open question whether or not the habit ever survives transportation. The American climate and mode of life differ so much from those of the Continent that other fashions must be followed here than those which prevail there. Many families, who during a long foreign residence have found quite sufficient for their matutinal meal the coffee or chocolate, the rolls and butter, possibly supplemented by fresh eggs or a little marmalade, have conscientiously endeavored to pursue the same custom upon their return to this country. In not a single case within the writer's cognizance has the attempt proved other than a failure, recognized as such at the end of a few months. Autre pays, autres mœurs.

While the children are still young, the entire family usually breakfasts together. The obligation upon the younger members of reaching their schools at a given hour forces them to be on time, although there are homes in which the wretched practice is observed of permitting the school boys and girls to rush in at the last moment and gulp down a few mouthfuls, hurrying off to their recitations after having thus successfully sown the seeds of future dyspepsia. As the sons and daughters grow into manhood and womanhood, they drift more and more into unpunctual habits. The breakfast-table is left standing well on into the middle of the morning, and sundry plats are kept hot in the oven for Mr. Jack or Miss Mamie, who has been out late the night before. Often the demands of business require the young man to be down in season, but there are no such claims obliging his sister to quit her couch at a—to her—unseasonable hour. As a consequence, what should be one of the family gathering-places becomes little better than a hotel breakfast-room, where the guests come and go as suits themselves. Besides all other considerations, the work of the servants is increased, and their own duties are crowded out by the necessity of being in readiness to serve these tardy ones.

At the first glance it may seem harsh to exact the prompt appearance at the breakfast-table of the girl who has danced until after one o'clock in the morning, and whose head has not touched her pillow until an hour or two later. But the habit of self-indulgence fostered by such concessions, does the girl no good. Is it any harder for her to rise betimes than it is for the weary mother, whose domestic cares forbid her lying in bed? Does not this indolence to a certain degree unfit the daughter for the duties that will devolve upon her when she in turn becomes a wife and mother?

One sensible matron, who still held the reins of family government as firmly when her children were grown as when they were first short-coated, always insisted on promptness at the breakfast-table. "Human beings are gregarious," she would say, "and they should eat together. If you are tired and sleepy, take a nap later in the day, but be on hand at breakfast-time."

Of course there may be exceptions to this rule, and here the maternal judgment must appear. More privileges can be allowed to the delicate, nervous girl, than to the strong, robust one; but then the former should avoid late hours and dissipation. An occasional morning nap does no harm; but there is little rhyme or reason in permitting the young, healthy members of the family to be the lie-abeds.

Without encouraging any disposition to "finicalness" concerning food, special attention should be paid to individual preferences in catering for the family breakfast. Children are apt to take whims, and these should not be fostered; but when either a child or an older person has a decided distaste for some article of food, he cannot be forced into a fondness for it. Better is it to humor his idiosyncrasies by preparing something that he will eat. In a private family it may be out of the question to cook a separate breakfast for each one, but a little forethought will enable the housekeeper to so arrange her menu that every one will have at least one dish to his or her taste. This is not a difficult matter, unless there is the unusual combination of a large family and very distinct preferences. Generally there is so much in common that trifling varieties in the bill of fare will accommodate each person.

THE INVALID'S BREAKFAST

FOR the invalid there is often no possibility of the slight stimulus to appetite produced by the change of air from one room to another. Breakfast, the hardest meal of the day to many well people, is doubly difficult to one who must eat it in the same room where she has spent the night—perhaps many nights—of feverish restlessness, that has given her a detestation of the bed, the bedroom, and everything connected therewith, chiefest of all being the disgust with herself, the weary, distraught being with aching limbs, heavy head, and ill-tasting mouth.

When feasible, the invalid should be taken from bed to eat her regular breakfast, previously strengthening her by a cup of beef-tea, of chicken or oyster broth, or a glass of hot milk, or of hot milk and seltzer. First of all, however, the face and hands should be sponged off in tepid water and dried quickly, and the mouth well rinsed out. Then, refreshed and stimulated by this and the warm draught, a little more elaborate toilet may be made, always allowing a few moments for the settling of the stomach after the food before the dressing begins. A more thorough bathing, a combing of the hair, a change of linen, the slipping on of a warm dressing-gown, and the moving to another couch or an easy-chair will not be a prolonged piece of work if the attendant is quick and deft, and has everything in readiness for bath and toilet.

A great advantage is gained when the invalid can be wheeled or supported into another room, and have a completely changed air and scene in which to take her meal. But when this is impracticable the room should be well aired before the patient is taken out of bed, and as soon as she is established on her couch or in her chair, and this placed as far as possible from the bed, the covers of this should be stripped off and carried from the room. Every piece of cast-off linen, every receptacle containing soiled water, everything that recalls the fact that this is a sleeping-room and that can be removed, should be banished. A screen should be set between the patient and the bed, and if the chamber still seems close, she should be bundled up while another draught of fresh, pure air is allowed to rush into the room. After all this, when a table bearing an attractive breakfast is moved to the invalid's elbow, she is usually quite ready to partake of it.

In many cases it is out of the question for the patient to leave her bed, and then the coaxing of the appetite is a more difficult task. The very fact of being in bed seems to render eating almost an impossibility to some people. The woman who complained petulantly that everything she ate in bed tasted of the blanket and pillows, only voiced the sentiments of a multitude of her sisters. Among some women, breakfast in bed is esteemed a luxury; but it is one thing to take it there from choice, and quite another to be forced to do so by weakness or ill-health. Still, with due care, it may be made less distasteful than would seem practicable at the first glance.

The preliminary sponging, mouth-washing, and hot drink should take place in this as in the other case. Then, after a brief rest, during which the windows should have been opened for a few minutes, and closed long enough to allow the room to regain a comfortable temperature, the task of rearranging the bed and its occupant should be begun. Clean linen and pillows should be at hand, and the patient be sponged off, have her hair combed, be arrayed in another night-dress, moved to the other side of the bed, and provided with a fresh pillow, as expeditiously yet gently as may be. Then, when the soiled clothing has been removed, the room been once more aired and warmed, the patient may be raised on pillows and her breakfast brought to her. There is an admirable little table which may be arranged above the patient's knees, and is a great comfort to any one compelled to take her meals in bed for any length of time.

Nothing should be left untried to render the invalid's breakfast tempting. The tray should be covered with a spotless cloth, the china, silver, and glass should be of the best the house affords, and the same napkin should never be offered a second time.

The tea or coffee cup and the egg-glass should be filled with boiling water, that they may not cool what is put into them. A pretty little pot should hold the tea or coffee, and there should be a tiny cream-jug and sugar-bowl. A vase containing a few flowers, preferably those without a heavy perfume, should grace the tray, and in the preparation of the food every evidence should be given of the loving thoughtfulness that has left unsought no means of lightening the discomfort of the sufferer. Where there is no bed-table, there should be another tray, smaller than that in which the breakfast is brought. This may then be placed on a stand or chair beside the bed, while the other holds the cup or plate upon the patient's lap. A large napkin or clean towel should always protect the bedclothes from food that may possibly be spilled upon them, for few things are more unpleasant to a sick person, especially to one afflicted with a squeamish stomach, than the sight of a spot of egg, coffee, or grease on sheet or spread. When such an accident occurs, the stained article should always be promptly exchanged for a fresh one.

The meal over, every vestige of food and every reminder of the repast should be at once removed, the patient's face and hands again sponged off, the pillows shaken and turned, and the invalid's position changed. Should any odor of food remain, the room may once more be aired.

Peace and quiet must reign while the invalid eats. If visitors are to be admitted it must not be at that time. Only one or possibly two members of the family, and those the quietest ones, may be present, and the conversation must be pleasant and cheery. No distressing topics must be broached, no references except encouraging ones made to the invalid's state of health. In the delicately balanced condition of nerves which generally afflicts a sick person, very little will serve to upset the equilibrium and to effectually banish appetite.

All that love's ingenuity can suggest should be done to provide a variety of food for the invalid. After a little while she usually tires of what impatient men, under similar circumstances, stigmatize as "slops," and wearies for something more substantial and appetizing than gruels, broths, and soft toast. In those cases where solid food is forbidden by the physician, catering is more difficult, but often a convalescent is permitted to eat a greater variety of food than is offered her. Cream soups, clear soups, broiled birds, a bit of tenderloin steak, a lamb chop, a tiny baked omelet, raw, stewed, and roast oysters, broiled and fricasseed chicken, poached and soft-boiled eggs, a bit of venison, dishes of rice, sago, and tapioca, jellies, custards, blanc-manges, fruits, plain ice-cream—there is almost no end to the dainty menus that can be arranged. Every meal should be a surprise; there should be no discussion in the invalid's presence of what she can eat, although every reasonable wish she expresses for any article of food should be gratified, if feasible. The sick one's lot is hard enough at the best, and no expedient should be left untried to ameliorate it.

A BREAKFAST-PARTY

LARGE breakfasts, or déjeûners à la fourchette, are not a very common form of entertainment in this country, and yet they may be made charming. Unlike luncheons, where there are usually only women present, both men and women may be invited to a breakfast. The hour is usually twelve, although it may be a little earlier or later. One o'clock is the latest hour which it is advisable to set for a breakfast.

The number of guests invited is optional, but a small party, consisting of from six to twelve, is pleasanter than a crush. Indeed, unless one has an exceptionally spacious salle à manger, it is difficult to accommodate comfortably more than a dozen guests, and an over-crowded table is always unpleasant. The writer preserves a vivid memory of a dinner she once attended where fourteen people were packed about a table of the proper size for ten guests. There was hardly room for the waiters to pass the dishes between the convives. Each one elbowed his neighbor, and what might have been a delightful repast became a struggle at close quarters with the difficulties of getting through the courses without nudging his next companion, knocking over his glass, or materially interfering with his eating.

At a ceremonious breakfast the table should be spread with a handsome breakfast or lunch cloth, either of pure white, hem-stitched or adorned with drawn-work, or one containing more or less color. If the table is very handsome, the cloth may be left off. The floral ornamentation is less formal than at a dinner. There may be a bowl of flowers in the centre of the table, but quite as pretty as this are three or four graceful vases scattered here and there, each holding a few choice blossoms, and supplemented, if the table is large, by a few tiny globes or little dishes filled with short-stemmed flowers that look well, massed, like pansies, violets, primroses, etc., mixed with plenty of delicate feathery green. If a central ornament for the table is desired, there is nothing prettier than a wicker or metal basket filled with growing ferns, grasses, or lycopodium, with possibly one or two plants in bloom among them.

In setting the table for a large breakfast, a plate, napkin, water-glass, and a butter-plate holding a tiny pat or ball of butter, are laid at each place, and a salt-cellar also, if individual salts are used. At the right of each plate is the silver butter-knife, and one other knife; to the left is the fork. The taste of the hostess must decide the point of placing more small silver than is needed at each course by the plates when the table is first spread. Laying it all at once saves waiting, but some good authorities ordain that a waiter should bring in a fresh knife and fork with each course for each guest, while others, equally reliable, advocate placing the knife and fork upon a cold plate in front of each person at the beginning of every course. The guest instantly removes them, and a hot plate is substituted by the waiter for the cold one before the next dish is passed. This system involves much additional waiting, and should not be attempted unless an exceptionally well-trained butler is in charge.

The little dishes of bonbons, marrons, and glacé fruits that are always en règle at a luncheon should not appear on the breakfast-table. There may, however, be olives, radishes, and salted almonds placed here and there.

The first course should consist of fruit. The plates, holding each its doily, finger-bowl, fruit-knife, fork, and spoon, may be on the table when the guests enter the room, or be put there as soon as they are seated. The variety of fruit offered must be decided by the time of year. When they are in season, nothing could be more delicious than big strawberries, served uncapped. These may be passed in a dish, and each guest allowed to help himself. Sugar into which to dip the berries may then be served to each. Prettier still is it to place in front of each guest a plate bearing a tiny decorated basket filled with the berries. The sugar may be in tiny individual sugar-cellars or be passed in a bowl. Unless the berries are fine large ones, it is better to serve them hulled, and to eat them with sugar and cream. In that case they are eaten from saucers.

Peaches, pears, apricots, nectarines, etc., in summer, and oranges, apples, mandarins, bananas, and the like in winter, all add greatly to the beauty of a breakfast-table when they are garnished with leaves and heaped upon a large flat salver, or in a cut-glass bowl, or an open-work one of china or silver.

After the fruit may come a course of oysters cooked à la poulette, broiled, steamed, panned, or in croquettes. For these may be substituted lobster or crab in some form, if preferred, or both the oysters and the other may be served in successive courses. Next may come some such entrée as sweetbreads roasted, broiled, fricasseed, or in vol-au-vent with mushrooms, or chickens may be served in some such dainty form as pâtés, timbales, à la marengo, or au suprême. Next are chops, cutlets, or small beef tenderloins, with potatoes in some fanciful style. There should be no other vegetable. French bread or rolls must be passed frequently.

The next course may consist of a game pie, either cold or hot, or of boned fowl, and may be followed by a salad. The name of these is legion, but the plain lettuce salad is better reserved for dinner, and in its stead at breakfast there may be served something like tomatoes and lettuce with mayonnaise dressing, celery mayonnaise garnished with radishes, and accompanied by crackers and cheese, or a fruit-salad of oranges, grape fruit, or pineapple.

The dessert may be of any cold sweets, and if ices are used they should be of the punch order—one of the many varieties known as Roman, Siberian, creole, cardinal, etc. If crackers and cheese are not served with the salad, they may be passed at the close of the breakfast. Brie, Gorgonzola, or Roquefort may be used.

At a breakfast of ceremony the tea or coffee tray is never placed on the table, but breakfast coffee or cocoa is served in large cups after the fruit, and is passed by the butler, instead of being poured by the hostess. Tea may also be offered. Wines are not strictly selon les règles at a breakfast, although occasionally claret is served about the middle of the meal.

The waiting at such a breakfast as this is about as ceremonious as it would be at a luncheon. No large dishes are placed on the table, but everything is passed by the butler or waitress. Each dish may go the rounds, and the guests be allowed to help themselves, or a plate containing a portion may be placed by the butler in front of each person. The guest always helps himself to cheese and hors-d'œuvres, but the ices are served separately on plates. Bouquets de corsage, boutonnières, cards and menus are not necessary at a breakfast.

A wedding breakfast is conducted on much the same line as that described above, except that there are usually fewer hot and more cold dishes served, such as salmon, lobster, or chicken à la mayonnaise, boned turkey and chicken, pâté-de-foie-gras, jellied tongue and fowl, and a greater variety of such sweets as creams and jellies. Wines, too, are quite comme il faut.

The giving of a breakfast need not be a matter of dread to the hostess who has confidence in her cook and waitress. The menu suggested may be so modified or increased as to make it as simple or as elaborate as preference may dictate. A breakfast is a pleasant style of entertainment, for, while both sexes are admitted, as at dinner, there is not the formality of dress essential at that meal, the men appearing in morning coats, and the women in handsome high-necked and long-sleeved house or calling costumes.

FAMILY BREAKFASTS FOR SPRING

WHILE the principal features of the home breakfast remain essentially the same throughout the year, variety is gained by adapting the different articles of food to the season of the year in which they are served. A lighter, less carbon-producing diet is not only more agreeable, but more healthful, in warm weather than one containing much animal food, while the latter is preferable and almost necessary in winter. To this consideration is added the eminent propriety of making one's bills of fare seasonable, and thus achieving fitness and economy.

With the desire to aid the housewife in her labors, a few selected menus for each meal and each season will be given, none of them too costly to be beyond the reach of people of moderate means, and appended to each bill of fare will be recipes for the preparation of certain dishes therein mentioned which may possibly be unfamiliar to the readers of these chapters.

1.
Oranges.
Cracked Wheat.
Parsley Omelet. Corn Muffins.
Buttered Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Parsley Omelet.—Five eggs, two tablespoonfuls milk, one tablespoonful butter, one tablespoonful finely minced parsley; pepper and salt to taste. Beat the whites and yolks of the eggs separately and very light; add the milk to the yolks and stir in the whites, not mixing them in thoroughly, however; season to taste. Pour into the omelet pan in which the butter has been heated, and set over the fire in a moderately hot spot. Keep the omelet from adhering to the pan by slipping a knife between them from time to time. Just before the omelet is "set," sprinkle it thickly with the chopped parsley. When done, fold one half over the other, slip to a hot dish, and serve at once, as it falls quickly.

Corn Muffins.—One and a half cups flour, one and a half cups yellow corn-meal, three tablespoonfuls sugar, two tablespoonfuls butter, two eggs, one and a half cupfuls milk, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, half teaspoonful salt. Sift the salt and baking-powder with the flour; beat the eggs light; add the milk, the butter (melted), and the sugar. Stir in the flour and meal; beat hard, and bake in muffin-tins.

Buttered Potatoes.—Slice cold boiled potatoes, heat them in a steamer, thence transfer them to a hot dish. Put on them a large tablespoonful of butter into which have been worked a teaspoonful of chopped parsley and a saltspoonful of lemon juice. Set the dish, covered, over hot water for two minutes, and serve.

2.
Mandarins.
Cerealine Porridge.
Creamed Cod, with Potatoes. Griddle Muffins.
Coffee. Chocolate.

Creamed Cod, with Potatoes.—To two cupfuls of boiled cod, salt or fresh, well picked to pieces, allow one cupful of mashed potato. Season to taste. Put into the frying-pan over the fire with a half-cupful of milk and a large tablespoonful of butter. Stir and beat constantly while it heats, and soften it by adding to it boiling water at discretion. When a creamy, smoking mass, transfer it to a hot dish. If you have drawn butter in the house, or sauce tartare, or egg sauce left over from the first appearance of the fish, this may be used in place of the milk and butter.

Griddle Muffins.—One egg, one tablespoonful butter, one cupful milk, one teaspoonful baking-powder, pinch of salt, flour enough to make a soft dough. Mix the milk, beaten egg, and melted butter together; sift the baking-powder and salt into one cupful of the flour; then add the rest; roll out the dough as thick as for biscuit, cut into rounds with a biscuit-cutter, and bake slowly on a griddle, turning when done on one side. Tear open, and butter while hot.

3.
Graham Brewis.
Baked Mince. Feather Muffins.
Water Cress.
Stewed Prunes.
Tea. Cocoa.

Graham Brewis.—Two cups milk, one tablespoonful butter, one saltspoonful salt; Graham bread crumbs at discretion. Heat the milk in a double boiler, stir in the butter and salt, and add the Graham crumbs until the brewis is as thick as ordinary oatmeal porridge; cook ten minutes, and eat with butter, or butter and sugar.

Baked Mince.—Two cups chopped beef, one cup mashed potato, half an onion minced, one cup gravy or one cup boiling water, and a tablespoonful of butter, two teaspoonfuls Worcestershire sauce; pepper and salt to taste. Mix the ingredients well together, and put into a greased pudding-dish; sprinkle a few fine crumbs over the top; set in the oven and brown.

Feather Muffins.—One cup flour, one cup milk, lump of butter the size of an egg, one teaspoonful baking-powder, pinch of salt, two eggs. Beat the eggs light, the whites and yolks separately. Into the latter stir the milk, the flour, with which has been sifted the salt and baking-powder, and the butter, melted. Last, add the whipped whites, and bake in a quick oven.

4.
Fruit.
Oatmeal Porridge.
Scallop Patties. Graham Gems.
Baked Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Scallop Patties.—Cook a pint of scallops in their own liquor for ten minutes. Take out the scallops and add to the liquor a tablespoonful of butter rubbed smooth with one of flour, and pepper and salt to taste. Return the scallops to this sauce, and let it just come to a boil. Fill scallop-shells with the mixture, sprinkle fine crumbs over them, dot with bits of butter, and brown in the oven. Pass lemon with this.

Graham Gems.—Two cups Graham flour, two cups milk, two eggs, two teaspoonfuls butter, two teaspoonfuls sugar, pinch of salt. Melt the butter, warm the milk, and stir these into the unbeaten eggs. Add the flour and salt, and beat well before baking in heated gem-pans in a hot oven.

5.
Fruit.
Corn-meal Hasty Pudding.
Broiled Fresh Mackerel. Saratoga Potatoes.
Buttered Toast.
Tea. Coffee.

6.
Wheat-Germ Meal.
Curried Eggs. Rice Muffins.
Strawberries and Cream.
Tea. Cocoa.

Curried Eggs.—One cup good gravy, six hard-boiled eggs, one teaspoonful curry-powder. Heat the gravy; stir into it the curry-powder wet up in a little cold gravy or water, and lay the eggs, each sliced in three, in the scalding gravy. Set the saucepan at the side of the stove where it will not boil, and let it stand ten minutes before sending to table.

Rice Muffins.—One cup boiled rice, two eggs, two cups flour, one tablespoonful melted butter, pinch salt, three cups milk. Stir together the milk, eggs, butter, and salt; beat in the rice and flour; bake quickly.

7.
Fruit.
Graham Porridge.
Broiled Steak. Stewed Potatoes.
Omelet Bread.
Coffee. Cocoa.

Omelet Bread.—Half-cup flour, three eggs, one tablespoonful melted butter, one teaspoonful sugar, pinch of salt, milk enough to make thick batter. Beat the whites and yolks of eggs separately, and very light; stir the butter, flour, milk, salt, sugar, and yolks together, and add the frothed whites; pour into a well-greased tin pan, and bake, covered, on the top of the stove; uncover and brown in the oven; eat immediately.

8.
Fruit.
Wheatena.
Crisped Smoked Beef. Brown Biscuit.
Chopped Potatoes.
Coffee. Chocolate.

Crisped Smoked Beef.—Boil slices of smoked beef for five minutes; take them out, dry, and put into the frying-pan with a tablespoonful of butter; stir about until crisp, but not too dry.

Brown Biscuit.—One cup white flour, two cups Graham flour, two tablespoonfuls lard, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, a little salt, milk enough to make a soft dough. Handle the dough as little as possible, and bake quickly.

9.
Hominy boiled in Milk.
Poached Eggs. Fried Bacon.
Raspberry Short-cake.
Tea. Cocoa.

Raspberry Short-cake.—Four cups flour, two cups milk, two tablespoonfuls lard, or lard and butter, three teaspoonfuls baking-powder, salt, one quart raspberries. Roll out a little more than half the dough into a sheet to cover the bottom of a deep biscuit-pan. Spread the berries thickly on this, sprinkle with sugar, and of the remaining dough make a top crust. Bake in a steady oven, cut into squares, and eat hot with butter and sugar, or with sugar and cream.

10.
Oranges.
Cracked Wheat.
Broiled Chicken. Saratoga Potatoes.
Boston Brown Bread.
Coffee. Chocolate.

Boston Brown Bread.—One cup Indian-meal, one cup rye-meal, half-cup white flour, one cup milk, half-cup molasses, pinch salt, one small teaspoonful soda. Sift the meal, flour, soda, and salt together, work in the milk and molasses, pour into a well-greased brown-bread mould, and boil two hours, taking care that the water in the outer vessel does not come to the top of the mould. Unless you have a late breakfast, it is well to cook the bread the day before, and warm it the next morning.

FAMILY BREAKFASTS FOR SUMMER

AS the season advances and the warm weather becomes settled, the preference should be given to fish and egg dishes rather than to those containing meat. For a sultry morning a breakfast of which fruit makes an important part is welcome generally to both palate and digestion.

The many kinds of delicious fresh fish that may easily be procured should hold a prominent place in summer bills of fare; while eggs, usually plentiful and cheap at this season, may be prepared in various tempting fashions.

1.
Strawberries.
Moulded Cerealine.
Broiled Shad. New Potatoes.
Rye Gems.
Tea. Cocoa.

Strawberries.—When served as a first course at breakfast, it is better to have them unhulled, and to eat them with the fingers, dipping each berry into powdered sugar.

Moulded Cerealine.—Prepare the cerealine as usual the day before, and fill small cups with it. Turn it out the next morning, and eat cold, with cream.

Rye Gems.—Three cups rye-flour, three cups milk, three eggs, one tablespoonful sugar, one tablespoonful butter. Beat hard and bake quickly.

2.
Red Raspberries.
Oatmeal.
Shad Roes in Ambush.
Potato Croquettes. Dry Toast.
Radishes.
Tea. Coffee.

Shad Roes in Ambush.—Two shad roes, four hard-boiled eggs, one cup milk, one tablespoonful flour, two teaspoonfuls butter; pepper and salt to taste. Lay the roes in boiling water, and let them simmer for ten minutes. Drain this off, pour cold water upon them, and let them stand in this for ten minutes; then take them out, and set them aside until wanted. Separate the whites and yolks of the boiled eggs, chop the whites coarsely, and rub the yolks through a sieve. Make a white sauce by heating the milk and thickening it with the butter and flour rubbed together. Rub the shad roes to pieces with the back of a spoon, taking care not to crush the eggs too much. Stir them into half of the white sauce, season, let them stand on the fire long enough to be heated through, and pour into a pudding-dish. Mix the whites of the eggs with the rest of the sauce, and cover the shad roes with this; last, strew the powdered yolks over the top. Cover closely, and set in a hot oven for three minutes.

3.
Boiled Hominy.
Chicken Mince. Raw Tomatoes.
Green Corn Fritters.
Blackberries and Cream.
Tea. Cocoa.

Chicken Mince.—From the bones of a cold roast, boiled, or fricasseed chicken cut all the meat, and mince it fine with a sharp knife, chopping with it two hard-boiled eggs. Stir this into a cup of gravy, or, if you have none, use instead a cup of white sauce made as directed in "Shad Roes in Ambush." Season to taste, fill a pudding-dish or scallop-shells with the mixture, and serve very hot.

Green-Corn Fritters.—Two cupfuls green corn cut from the cob, two eggs, two tablespoonfuls milk, one tablespoonful melted butter, flour enough for thin batter. Whip the eggs light, beat into these the corn and the other ingredients, adding the flour last of all. Bake on a griddle.

4.
Black Raspberries.
Wheaten Grits.
Broiled Salt Mackerel, Cream Sauce.
Stewed Potatoes. Graham Pop-Overs.

Broiled Salt Mackerel.—Soak your fish overnight in cold water, and wipe it dry before putting it on the gridiron. Broil over a clear fire, lay on a hot platter, and pour the sauce over it.

Cream Sauce.—Make like white sauce given above, doubling the quantity of butter, seasoning to taste, and using half milk, half cream, if you have the latter.

Graham Pop-Overs.—Three eggs, one and a half cups Graham flour, half cup white flour, two cups milk, pinch salt. Beat the eggs very light, whites and yolks together. Add the milk and salt, and sift in the flour rather slowly, to prevent lumping. Strain the batter through a sieve, and fill heated gem-pans. Bake in a quick oven, and eat immediately.

5.
Melons.
Moulded Oatmeal.
Sardines au gratin. Fresh Eggs, boiled.
Sally-Lunn.
Cocoa. Coffee.

Sardines au gratin.—Open a box of sardines; take them out carefully and lay them in a small pie-plate; squeeze a few drops of a lemon on each fish, sprinkle lightly with fine crumbs, and brown in the oven.

Sally-Lunn.—Two eggs, two tablespoonfuls melted butter, one cup milk, pinch salt, half yeast-cake, two cups flour. Beat the eggs light; stir in the butter, salt, and milk, then the flour, and last the yeast cake, dissolved. Let it rise at least six hours in a very well-greased tin; bake, turn out, and eat hot.

6.
Graham Flakes.
Baked Omelet. Parisian Potatoes.
Quick Biscuit.
Blackberries and Cream.
Coffee. Cocoa.

Baked Omelet.—Five eggs, half cup milk, quarter cup fine bread-crumbs, tablespoonful melted butter; pepper and salt to taste. Soak the crumbs in the milk ten minutes; beat the eggs very light, the whites and yolks separately; stir the soaked crumbs, the milk, the butter, and seasoning into the yolks, and mix the whites in lightly. Pour into a well-greased pudding-dish, and bake in a quick oven.

Parisian Potatoes.—From peeled and washed white potatoes scoop out little balls with the cutter that comes for this purpose. Boil them for five minutes, then put them in the frying-pan with two tablespoonfuls of melted butter. Stir them about until every ball is well coated with the butter, pour into a colander, and set them in the oven until brown. Sprinkle with salt and a little minced parsley before serving.

Quick Biscuit.—Two cups flour, one tablespoonful mixed lard and butter, one cup milk, one heaping teaspoonful baking-powder, pinch salt. Handle little, roll out and cut quickly, and bake in a steady oven.

7.
Boiled Rice.
Fried Pickerel. Stewed Potatoes.
Cocoa. Coffee.
Peach Short-Cake.

Peach Short-Cake.—Make a dough as for quick biscuit, doubling the materials. Roll two thirds of the dough into a sheet to fit the bottom of a baking-pan, spread thickly with sliced peaches, sprinkle with sugar, and lay over these a crust made of the remaining dough. Bake in a steady oven. Split, butter, and eat hot.

8.
Farina Porridge.
Barbecued Ham. Water-cress.
Butter Cakes.
Huckleberries.
Tea. Coffee.

Barbecued Ham.—Slice cold boiled corned or smoked ham. Fry in its own fat, remove the slices to another dish, and keep hot while you add to the fat in the pan a teaspoonful of white sugar, three dashes of black pepper, a teaspoonful (scant) of made mustard, and three tablespoonfuls of vinegar. Boil up once, and pour over the ham.

Butter Cakes.—Prepare a dough as for quick biscuit, roll it out quarter of an inch thick, and cut into small rounds. Roll each of these out until as thin as cookies, prick with a fork, and bake in a quick oven. When done, butter well. Leave in the oven half a minute longer, and send hot to table.

9.
Oatmeal.
Omelet with Corn. Deviled Tomatoes.
Cold Bread.
Peaches and Cream.
Iced Tea. Coffee.

Omelet with Corn.—Prepare as you do baked omelet; but at the last, before putting into the pan, add a cupful of green corn cut from the cob. Pour the omelet into a frying-pan containing two tablespoonfuls of butter, and cook, loosening it constantly from the bottom with a knife to prevent its scorching. When done, double over and serve.

Deviled Tomatoes.—Cut fresh tomatoes into thick slices, broil on a fine wire gridiron over a clear fire, and when done lay in a dish, and pour over them a sauce like that made for barbecued ham, substituting two tablespoonfuls of olive oil or of melted butter for the ham fat.

10.
Peaches and Pears.
Moulded Hominy.
Broiled Bluefish. Stuffed Potatoes.
Corn-meal Gems.
Tea. Coffee.

Stuffed Potatoes.—Bake eight large, fine potatoes until soft; cut off the tops, and scoop out the contents; add to them one egg whipped light, two tablespoonfuls melted butter, half cup milk, pepper and salt. Beat all together, and return to the skins. Set in an oven, top upwards, long enough to become well heated, and serve.

Corn-meal Gems.—Three eggs, two cups milk, two tablespoonfuls butter, two cups corn-meal, one cup flour, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder. Work the butter and milk into the meal, then add the other materials, the flour last. Have your gem-pans very hot, and bake half an hour in a hot oven.

FAMILY BREAKFASTS FOR AUTUMN

DURING the early part of the autumn, and indeed until late in the winter, the supply of fruit is only less abundant than in the summer. Melons and peaches go first, but their place is taken by grapes, pears, apples, bananas, and, later, mandarins, tangerines, and oranges. Meat now begins to be a more necessary article in the bill of fare. By the exercise of a little ingenuity, left-overs from the dinner of the previous day may be rendered even more appetizing than they were in their first estate.

1.
Peaches and Pears.
Oatmeal.
Veal Cutlets à la Maître d'Hôtel.
Potatoes hashed with Cream.
Quick Sally-Lunn.
Cocoa. Coffee.

Veal Cutlets à la Maître d'Hôtel.—Cut veal cutlets into neat pieces, and pound each with a mallet. Broil over a clear fire, transfer to a hot dish, and lay on each cutlet a small piece of maître d'hôtel butter. Set in a hot corner, covered, for five minutes before sending to table.

Maître d'Hôtel Butter.—Into one cupful of good butter work a tablespoonful of lemon juice and two tablespoonfuls of finely chopped parsley, with a little salt and white pepper. Pack into a small jar, cover, and keep in a cool place. It is useful to put on chops, steaks, or cutlets, or to mix with potatoes.

Potatoes hashed with Cream.—Chop cold boiled potatoes fine, and stir them into a cup of hot milk in which has been melted two tablespoonfuls of butter. Pepper and salt to taste. Let the potatoes become heated through before you serve them. If you have cream, use this and half as much butter.

Quick Sally-Lunn.—Three eggs, half cup butter, one cup milk, three cups flour, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, half teaspoonful salt. Stir the butter, melted, into the beaten yolks; add the milk, the flour (into which the baking-powder has been sifted), and the whites last. Bake in one loaf, in a steady oven.

2.
Cracked Wheat.
Bananas.
Minced Mutton with Poached Eggs.
Buttered Toast. Baked Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Minced Mutton with Poached Eggs.—Chop cold boiled or roast mutton quite fine. Put two cupfuls of this into the frying-pan with half an onion minced, and a half-cupful of good gravy. If you have none, use instead a gill of hot water and a lump of butter the size of an egg. Just before taking the mince from the fire, stir into it a tablespoonful of Worcestershire sauce or two tablespoonfuls of tomato catsup. Heap the mince on small squares of buttered toast laid on a hot platter, and place a poached egg on top of each mound. Serve very hot.

3.
Apples.
Wheat Granules.
Soused Mackerel. Potato Balls.
Quick Waffles.
Cocoa. Coffee.

Soused Mackerel.—These may be purchased canned at nearly any good grocery, and make an excellent breakfast dish.

Potato Balls.—To two cupfuls cold mashed potato add an egg, a teaspoonful of butter, and salt and pepper to taste. Form with floured hands into small round or long balls, and fry in deep fat.

Quick Waffles.—Three cups flour, one tablespoonful butter, two eggs, two cups milk, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, a little salt. Beat the eggs light, add the milk, butter, and salt. Stir in the flour with the baking-powder last. Grease your waffle-irons well with a piece of fat pork.

4.
Grapes.
Wheaten Grits.
Broiled Steak with Mushrooms.
Fried Egg-plant. Unleavened Bread.
Coffee. Chocolate.

Broiled Steak with Mushrooms.—Broil your steak over a clear fire. Before you put it on, open a can of mushrooms, take out half of them, and cut each mushroom in two. Sauté them in a frying-pan with a little butter, unless you have a cup of bouillon or clear beef soup or gravy at hand. If you have, let them simmer in this for ten minutes, and when you dish your steak, pour gravy and mushrooms over it. Leave it covered in the oven five minutes before sending to table.

Unleavened Bread.—Two cups flour, one tablespoonful butter, a pinch salt, enough water to make a dough. Knead this well, roll out very thin, cut in rounds with a biscuit cutter, prick with a fork, and bake in a hot oven.

5.
Pears.
Corn-meal Mush.
Dropped Fish-cakes. Saratoga Potatoes.
Simple Griddle Cakes.

Dropped Fish-cakes.—One cup of salt cod picked very fine, half cup milk, one tablespoonful butter, two teaspoonfuls flour, one egg, pepper to taste. Make a white sauce of the flour, butter, and milk, stir the fish into this, add the egg, beaten light, season, and drop by the spoonful into boiling lard, as is done with fritters.

Simple Griddle Cakes.—Four cups sour milk, one small teaspoonful baking-soda, salt, flour for batter. Stir well and bake quickly.

6.
Grapes.
Rye-meal Porridge.
Broiled Sausages. Stewed Potatoes.
Wheat-flour Gems.

Broiled Sausages.—Make sausage-meat into quite thin cakes with the hands, lay them on a gridiron, and broil them over a hot fire.

Wheat-flour Gems.—Two cups flour, one cup milk, one tablespoonful melted butter, two eggs, saltspoonful salt. Beat the eggs light, stir in the milk, the butter, the salt. Sift in the flour, stir briskly, and bake in gem-pans in a hot oven.

7.
Bananas.
Oatmeal.
Clam Fritters. Boiled Potatoes.
English Muffins.
Tea. Coffee.

Clam Fritters.—Two dozen clams, one egg, one cup milk, two small cups flour, or enough for thin batter, salt and pepper. Chop the clams fine, and stir them into the batter made of the milk, clam liquor, beaten eggs, and the flour. Season to taste, and fry by the spoonful in very hot lard.

English Muffins.—Two cups milk, one tablespoonful butter, one teaspoonful sugar, saltspoonful salt, half of a yeast-cake. Four cups flour, or enough to make a very stiff batter. Set to rise for about three hours, or until the batter is like a honeycomb, then bake on a soapstone griddle in very large muffin-rings. Make them the day before they are wanted, and, when ready to use them, split, toast lightly, butter, and eat hot.

8.
Oranges.
Large Hominy.
Fried Smelts. Moulded Potato.
Hasty Muffins.
Tea. Coffee.

Moulded Potato.—Press cold mashed potato into small teacups; turn out, brush over with yolk of egg, put a bit of butter on top of each, and brown in the oven.

Hasty Muffins.—Two cups flour, two eggs, one tablespoonful mixed butter and lard, two teaspoonfuls white sugar, one teaspoonful baking-powder, saltspoonful salt, one cup milk. Into the eggs, beaten very light, stir the melted shortening, the sugar, the milk, and the flour, well mixed with the salt and baking-powder. Stir well, and bake in thoroughly greased tins.

9.
Grapes.
Cerealine cooked in Milk.
Egg Timbales with Cheese. Lyonnaise Potatoes.
Wheat Puffs.

Egg Timbales with Cheese.—Six eggs, one gill milk, salt and pepper to taste, two tablespoonfuls grated cheese. Beat the eggs well without separating the yolks and whites, add the milk and seasoning, stir in the cheese, and pour into well-greased little tin pans with straight sides; set these in a pan of hot water, and bake in the oven; when the egg is firm, turn out on a flat dish, and pour a white sauce over them.

Lyonnaise Potatoes.—Slice cold boiled potatoes into neat rounds; cut a medium-sized onion into thin slices, and put it with a good tablespoonful of butter or bacon dripping into the frying-pan; when the onion is colored, add the potatoes, about two cupfuls, and stir them about until they are a light brown. Strew with chopped parsley, and serve.

Wheat Puffs.—Two cups milk, two eggs, two cups flour. Beat hard and very smooth, and bake in greased and heated gem-pans or earthenware cups. Eat at once.

FAMILY BREAKFASTS FOR WINTER

A WORD may be said here anent the cooking of porridges. There are as many theories about this apparently simple affair as there are denominational differences in theological circles. One housekeeper soaks the oatmeal overnight; another puts it on when the fire is made; another fifteen minutes before breakfast. Mrs. A. soaks hers in cold water, Mrs. B. uses boiling, while Mrs. C. inclines to having the water just hot. One stirs the porridge frequently; another says it is ruined if touched with a spoon.

On general principles, one may say that oatmeal is never the worse for a soaking, although some varieties need it less than others; that unless carefully and evenly cooked it is apt to become lumpy without stirring or beating; and that the degree of stiffness to which it should be brought must depend upon the taste of those who are to eat it.

1.
Oranges.
Graham Mush.
Sausage Rolls. Rye Muffins.
Baked Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Sausage Rolls.—Make a good pastry by chopping into two cups of flour four tablespoonfuls of butter, making this to a paste with half a cup of ice-water, and rolling out three times. Have the ingredients and utensils very cold, and handle the paste as little and as lightly as possible. Cut the pastry with a sharp knife into strips about three inches square. On one of these lay cooked and minced sausage-meat, and cover it with another square of the same size. Pinch the edges together, and bake in a moderate oven. Proceed thus until all the materials are used.

Rye Muffins.—One cup white flour, two cups rye flour, two eggs, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, one tablespoonful butter, one tablespoonful sugar, saltspoonful salt, milk enough for stiff batter. Beat well, and bake in muffin-tins.

2.
Mandarins.
Boiled Hominy.
Pork Tenderloins. Apple Sauce.
Crumpets.
Coffee. Cocoa.

Crumpets.—Two cups milk, three cups flour, three tablespoonfuls butter, saltspoonful salt, half yeast-cake dissolved in warm water. Warm the milk; beat in the salted flour, the melted butter, and the yeast. Let this sponge stand in a warm place until light. Bake in greased muffin-rings on a hot griddle, or in muffin-pans in the oven. In either case fill the pans or rings only half full, as the crumpets will rise in baking.

3.
Oatmeal.
Veal Croquettes. Stewed Potatoes.
Sour-milk Muffins.
Stewed Prunes.
Tea. Coffee.

Veal Croquettes.—One cup cold veal, minced fine; tiny bit of onion, scalded and chopped; half teaspoonful parsley; one cup milk, or half milk, half soup stock; one tablespoonful flour; one tablespoonful butter; pepper and salt to taste; one egg. Cook the butter and flour together until they bubble; pour the milk or milk and stock on them, and stir until they thicken. Remove from the fire, and pour upon the beaten egg; then stir in the meat, seasoned with the onion, parsley, pepper, and salt. Set this aside until cold enough to handle, then form into croquettes between the floured hands. Roll in egg, and then in fine cracker crumbs, and drop into boiling lard. They are better prepared an hour before frying.

In making veal croquettes, oyster liquor may be used in place of the stock, and a few oysters chopped with the veal will improve the flavor.

Sour-milk Muffins.—One egg, two cups sour milk, half teaspoonful salt, half teaspoonful soda dissolved in hot water; flour to make a stiff batter. Beat hard, and bake quickly.

4.
Bananas.
Wheat Flakes.
Apples and Bacon. Loaf Corn Bread.
Saratoga Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Apples and Bacon.—Fry thin slices of bacon crisp in its own fat. Take up the bacon and keep hot while you fry in the fat left in the pan apples sliced across and cored, but not peeled. Arrange the apples in the centre of the dish, the bacon around the sides.

Loaf Corn Bread.—Two eggs, two cups milk, two cups corn meal, one cup flour, one tablespoonful lard, one tablespoonful sugar, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, saltspoonful salt. Beat the eggs light, add the melted lard, the milk, the flour, and meal, sifted with the baking-powder and salt, and beat very hard. Bake in a round tin, one with a tube in the middle, if you have it.

5.
Grapes.
Cerealine.
Broiled Salt Mackerel à la Maître d'Hôtel.
Stewed Potatoes. Risen Muffins.
Tea. Cocoa.

Broiled Salt Mackerel à la Maître d'Hôtel.—Soak the mackerel overnight. In the morning wipe it dry, broil, lay on a hot dish, and anoint plentifully with maître d'hôtel butter, made by directions given in the preceding chapter.

Risen Muffins.—Two cups milk, two eggs, one tablespoonful lard, one tablespoonful sugar, saltspoonful salt, half yeast cake dissolved in a little warm water, flour enough for batter. Set a sponge of all the ingredients except the eggs to rise overnight. In the morning beat these light, add them to the batter, and bake the muffins in tins in a quick oven.

6.
Wheat Germ-Meal Porridge.
Broiled Ham. Canned Pea Pancakes.
Buttered Toast.
Baked Apples.
Cocoa. Coffee.

Canned Pea Pancakes.—One can of green pease, one egg, one cup milk, two teaspoonfuls melted butter, half cupful flour, half teaspoonful baking-powder, salt to taste. Open the can several hours before it is to be used, and drain off the liquor. Rinse the pease in cold water. Mash them with the back of a spoon, and mix with them the butter and salt. Make a batter of the egg, the milk, and the flour, with the baking-powder. Add the pease, beat well, and bake on a griddle.

7.
Tangerines.
Rice Porridge.
Moulded Eggs. Ham Toast.
Baked Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Moulded Eggs.—On the bottom of well-buttered patty-pans with straight sides sprinkle finely minced parsley and a little pepper and salt. Break an egg into each pan, set them in a large pan filled with boiling water, and bake until set. Turn out on a flat dish, and pour a white sauce over them.

Ham Toast.—To every cupful of chopped cold boiled ham put a half-teaspoonful of made mustard, as much butter, and a little Worcestershire sauce. Trim the crust from slices of bread, toast and butter them, and spread them with the chopped ham.

8.
Bananas.
Oatmeal.
Broiled Smoked Salmon. Breakfast Biscuit.
Savory Potatoes.
Cocoa. Coffee.

Breakfast Biscuit.—Two cups milk, half cake yeast dissolved in warm water, two teaspoonfuls white sugar, two tablespoonfuls lard, one tablespoonful butter, saltspoonful salt, flour for soft dough. Warm the milk, melt the shortening, and set the sponge overnight. The next morning roll into a sheet, cut out with a biscuit cutter, let them rise twenty minutes in the pan, and bake.

Savory Potatoes.—Two cupfuls cold potatoes sliced, half cup gravy, quarter of an onion sliced. Heat the gravy in a frying-pan with the onion, add the potatoes, and leave them until they are brown, stirring often. Serve potatoes and gravy together.

9.
Oranges.
Cracked Wheat.
Lyonnaise Tripe. Boiled Potatoes.
Bread-and-milk Cakes.
Tea. Coffee.

Lyonnaise Tripe.—One pound boiled tripe, one onion, one tablespoonful butter, one cupful stewed tomatoes, pepper and salt. Brown the onion in the butter, add the tripe, cut into neat pieces, add the seasoning. Brown lightly, add the tomatoes, and, when these are hot, serve.

Bread-and-milk Cakes.—One cup fine bread crumbs, two cups milk, one egg, two teaspoonfuls melted butter, saltspoonful salt, two tablespoonfuls flour. Soak the crumbs in the milk ten minutes; beat in the whipped egg, the butter, the salt, and the flour. Bake on a well-greased griddle.

10.
Apples.
Graham Flakes.
Fried Scallops. Light Loaf.
Hashed Potatoes.
Tea. Coffee.

Fried Scallops.—Stew the scallops five minutes in their own liquor. Take out, drain, and roll first in egg, then in fine cracker crumbs. Fry to a light brown in deep fat, lay on a sheet of brown paper in a hot colander, and serve on a small napkin laid on a heated dish.

Light Loaf.—One cup milk, one tablespoonful sugar, one tablespoonful butter, two eggs, two cups flour, two teaspoonfuls baking-powder, saltspoonful salt. Beat the eggs light; add the butter, melted, the sugar, salt, milk, and, last, the flour sifted with the baking-powder. Bake in one loaf, and serve hot.

Hashed Potatoes.—Chop cold potatoes fine, have ready in a pan a tablespoonful of bacon dripping made very hot, stir into this two cupfuls of the potatoes, and toss about until well browned.

AT LUNCHEON

PROPERLY treated, luncheon may be the pleasantest meal of the day. Simple or elaborate, as the housekeeper's taste may dictate, always informal, it is more comfortable than the breakfast because less hurried, more agreeable than the dinner because less ceremonious.

The table at luncheon may either be set as for breakfast, with a pretty colored cloth to cover it; or a prettier way, if one has a table with a handsome top, is to spread on this a large luncheon napkin that only partially conceals the polished surface. One or more of these napkins may be used, according to their size and the amount of space you wish covered. A fringed doily or a crocheted or netted mat may be laid at each place to protect the table-top from the heated plate. Other mats should be laid under the hot dishes of meat, etc., while a tile or a trivet will hold the chocolate or teapot.

A writer on household decoration in a recent article in a popular magazine enlarged upon the charming effect produced by painting a table-top white, and thus producing a good background upon which to display old blue-and-white china. This would doubtless be extremely pretty, but in the practical mind the suspicion arises that, by the time the bare white table had held hot dishes during half a dozen meals, its surface would be marked with yellow rings that would leave no choice to the housewife but to conceal the whole of the defaced expanse with a table-cloth. A good furniture polish, or a simple mixture of sweet-oil and turpentine, applied with a piece of flannel, will restore the beauty of a hard-wood table-top, but it is questionable if the white paint could be so readily renovated.

The flowers that should have freshened the breakfast board must not be lacking at luncheon-time. The table may be spread with a luncheon set of china, or, if one does not own this, with the same plates, etc., that are used at breakfast and at tea. The tea-tray, with its burden of sugar-bowl, cream-pitcher, tea-caddy, and dainty cups and saucers, may stand in front of the mistress of the house, while at her elbow may be the five-o'clock-tea crane bearing its kettle of boiling water; or a smaller hot-water urn in brass, copper, or silver, with a spirit-lamp under it, may be on the table near her right hand, with the teapot beside it. If the small hot-water pot is used, and the table is bare, a tray should hold the kettle and stand, lest a drop of blazing alcohol should blister the polished surface of the wood. When cocoa or chocolate is drunk at luncheon, the paraphernalia of kettle and spirit-lamp is, of course, unnecessary.

There are some brands of cocoa for which it is claimed by the manufacturers that they are excellent when prepared for use by simply pouring the boiling water on the powder. So far as the writer's experience has gone, however, there is not one of them that is not benefited by being boiled for a few minutes before serving.

Nearly everything that is to compose the ordinary luncheon for the family may be put upon the table at one time. Of course there must be an exception to this rule when the first course consists of soup or bouillon; but even then all the cold dishes may be in place when the guests are seated. The waiting need be only of the simplest, unless formality is desired. Those about the table may help themselves and one another, while the duties of the waitress may be confined to passing the dishes that are on the sideboard, changing the plates, bringing in hot dishes, etc.

The truth, often reiterated, that women cook only for men, and that a woman would never take the trouble to prepare anything for herself beyond a cup of tea and a slice of toast, is strongly emphasized by the carelessness many of them manifest in the matter of luncheon. Of course, when there are several in the family the needs and tastes of others have to be consulted; but when the mistress of the house has to sit down to a solitary meal, or at best to one that is the nursery dinner for two or three children whose diet is of the simplest, she is apt to let her luncheon consist of little more than a "cold bite," and the—almost—invariable cup of tea. Such a course must affect the health sooner or later, and is a species of carelessness of self against which a woman must guard if she does not wish to reap its fruits in headaches, dyspepsia, and general depression of the system. Without getting up a troublesome menu, she may yet devise divers tempting little dishes which will coax her appetite. She will feel happier and work better for a substantial although not heavy meal in the middle of the day.

Luncheon is pre-eminently the meal at which to make use of potted meats, sardines, pâtés, and the like. There are many of these from which to make a choice. A luncheon is not to be despised that begins with a cup of bouillon, or with a plate of soup left over from last night's dinner, continues with fresh rolls or biscuit or muffins, or toasted crackers, or good cold bread—white or brown—cut in delicate slices, and one of the pâtés put up by certain French and American companies, or a Gotha liver sausage, or a few sardines, accompanied by a cup of tea or cocoa, and concludes with some simple sweet, such as marmalade, jam, or fruit.

But luncheon need not be confined to cold delicacies that must be bought outright. It is the time for using up left-overs, for trying new recipes for side-dishes and entrées, for the housekeeper to learn for herself and to teach her cook the daintiest methods of utilizing those remnants which the uninitiated might stigmatize as "scraps." Great is the variety of styles in which these may be employed. That bit of cold fish from last evening's dinner may be picked to shreds, stirred into a white sauce, and baked in a scallop-shell. Or it may be mixed with half as much mashed potato, moistened with boiling water and a little melted butter, and tossed up into a dish of creamed fish.

The scraps of pastry left from pie-making and the sausage or two that were spared at breakfast may compose a sausage-roll, the cold potato and the fragment of steak may be turned into a hash, and odd slices of cold lamb, mutton, or veal are just the thing for croquettes and fritters. And of the odds and ends of poultry what delicious compounds may be made! Croquettes, scallops, minces, fritters, filling for pâtés, salad enough for one or two if eked out with lettuce, and a dozen other dainty plats. Or a tiny omelet, either baked or sauté, may be prepared; and when one begins to count up the appetizing dishes which may be made of eggs, the list seems without an end. Even when several people are to partake of the meal a variety of little dishes may take the place of a single large one for which new material would have to be purchased. In the cultivation or creation of a talent as a réchauffeuse true economy consists.

In some homes luncheon is a quite elaborate affair, and comprises several courses, including, perhaps, a soup or bouillon, a meat course, a salad, and fruit or sweets. In the majority of establishments owned by people of moderate means, however, the meal is simpler, but need be no less delightful. Many people can eat muffins, griddle-cakes, and other hot breads at noon with less after-discomfort than at any other season, and dishes of this sort are usually acceptable on the luncheon-table. With their help the meal can hardly fail to be appetizing.

A SMALL LUNCHEON

LUNCHEONS are among the most popular forms of entertainment that can be selected, when only a limited number are to be honored. To these affairs men are seldom invited, and there are not wanting those among the sterner sex who do not hesitate to attribute their banishment to desire on the women's part for the opportunity to chat uninterruptedly and unreservedly on those subjects presumed dear to their hearts—dress, babies, and servants. Other men go so far as to hint that gossip, and even scandal, engage the tongues of these much-maligned women, while even the most charitable husbands and brothers cannot refrain from openly expressing their pity for the unfortunate ladies debarred, for even a limited period, from the delights of the society of the lords of creation.

Casting aside the intimations respecting gossip or scandal as unworthy of notice, and tracing the animus of the other slurs to their source, in the overpowering jealousy on the part of their perpetrators that they are excluded from the select assemblages they affect to condemn, it may be said in refutation of the last charge that there are few women who do not agree in considering a luncheon among the most delightful of their social experiences. An invitation to one is usually hailed with joy, and a woman will undergo a good deal of inconvenience sooner than consent to decline it.

A luncheon is elastic in its nature, and may be of any size the hostess's fancy or judgment dictates. One woman may invite another to share the meal with her, and to help form that solitude à deux so delightful to two congenial souls. In such a case a long and elaborate menu is out of place, and not in the best form. What dishes there are should be wisely selected, perfectly prepared, and carefully served; but a multiplication of courses or viands is unnecessary, and savors of vulgar display. The same principle applies at any small luncheon. The definition of size is a rather difficult matter, but a company of this sort of not more than five or six persons may fitly be called small. With every addition to the number the need increases for more items in the menu.

For a small and unpretentious luncheon the invitations should not be issued long in advance, unless the hostess finds it necessary to do so in order to secure the presence of some especial guests. In that case, if the entertainment is to be very simple, it is as well to inform the guests of the fact when writing to them. Either a written or a verbal invitation is admissible. It should always be clearly understood, however, that the engagement, when once made, is no less binding than if it were a promise to attend the largest and most ceremonious dinner. Indeed, fidelity to one's acceptance and prompt attendance are even more obligatory at a small than at a large affair, because at the latter the defection of one person is less noticeable than it would be were very few expected to be present. In either case failure to keep the engagement is a grave breach of etiquette. It may be said, in this connection, that more of a compliment is implied by the request to be one of a small and—by inference—select band than is shown when the invitations embrace a larger party.

An even number is usually better than an odd number at a luncheon, unless the table is a large round one, about which the guests can gather without leaving an awkward gap on one side.

The covering for the table may either be a very pretty luncheon cloth with a little color about it, or else of plain white. Of course, should the hostess desire to have any one tint predominate in her table appointments, it is better to have the cloth of that shade or of white. If artificial light is required, candles give a pleasanter light than anything else, and one candelabrum of several branches is generally enough for a small table. Should this not sufficiently illuminate the room, the gas may be lighted and partially turned down, or a lamp or two may be placed on a mantel-shelf or on a bracket. There should always be flowers in the centre of the table, preferably a flat or low dish or vase, for where there are few guests they should be able to see each others' faces, instead of being obliged to dodge around a tall ornament that effectually conceals those seated on one side of the board from those placed on the other. Bouquets de corsage, while always pretty, are not essential at a simple luncheon, nor are cards necessary.

The table should be spread with the daintiest china and silver. At each plate must be the usual articles—knife, fork, tumbler, butter-plate, and napkin. A knife and fork for each course may be laid by every plate, the knives on the right side, the forks on the left. A roll or two or three sticks of bread must lie on each napkin. The usual little dishes of olives, salted almonds, pea-nuts or pistachio-nuts, radishes, bonbons, etc., should stand here and there, and by their color or sparkle add to the beauty of the repast.

The first course may be either beef or chicken bouillon. This is served in bouillon- cups, with covers and saucers, if one has them, or, if not, in tea or after-dinner coffee-cups. The latter are a trifle small, but one need not go to the other extreme, as was done at a lunch given not long ago, where the bouillon was served in mugs nearly as large as those commonly used for shaving, and quite as thick and heavy. It was impossible to help recalling the saying of the woman who declared that when she took coffee from one of the breakfast cups in use at most hotels she felt as though she were drinking it over the side of a stone wall. Bouillon is usually sipped with a spoon, however, although it is not out of the way to raise the cup to the lips.

The bouillon may either be on the table when the guests enter the room, or be brought in as soon as they are seated. It is followed by fish in some dainty form, as creamed fish, creamed or buttered lobster, croquettes of lobster, oysters, or fish; or oyster or lobster pâtés. These are not passed in the dish, but are brought in already served, and a plate holding a portion placed in front of each guest. Rolls, French bread, or bread and butter are then passed.

The next course in a luncheon of this size need not be an entrée, although one may be introduced here. Sweetbreads, chicken cutlets, timbales of some sort, a vol-au-vent—any one of these will answer, but there is no violation of rules if it is omitted altogether at a small luncheon. In that case the next course—the pièce de résistance—may follow the fish directly, and may consist of French chops with pease, and potatoes daintily prepared, or chicken broiled, fried, or cooked in some attractive fashion, or broiled tenderloins of beef with mushrooms, or birds.

After this the salad appears, and may be of chicken, lobster, shrimps, oysters, or tomatoes, avoiding, of course, any meat or fish that has appeared earlier in the meal, even although in another form. The olives should be passed with this, and, indeed, may have gone the rounds during and between the other course, as have the salted nuts and the radishes.

The salad eaten, the table is cleared and crumbed, and the dessert brought in—ices in some pretty form, accompanied by fancy cakes. Fruit may succeed this, or it may be omitted, and the final cup of chocolate or coffee served at once. The bonbons now receive attention, and are usually carried into the drawing-room by the guests, who, being women, seem to find almost as much enjoyment in nibbling these as men do in discussing their post-prandial cigars.

A LARGE LUNCHEON.

A MUCH more ceremonious affair than that described in the preceding chapter is the large luncheon, where there are present anywhere from eight to twenty guests. The invitations for this are issued at least ten days, and often three weeks or more, previous to the date for which the guests are asked, and should be written, not verbal, except when given to an intimate friend. The recipient should reply at once. The hour set is usually one or half-past one, and the most punctilious promptness should always be observed. Nothing short of a serious accident or illness or a death in the family can justify any one in breaking such an engagement.

"People don't always keep that precept," says a woman, decidedly. "I can give more than one example to the contrary from my own experience. Here is an instance. I had a letter not long ago from a friend living out of town, begging me to fix a time when she could come and see me. She dreaded making the trip into town when it was doubtful if she would find me at home. I knew she had few outings, so I wrote and asked her to lunch with me upon a certain day, adding that there would be a couple of other old friends present whom she would be glad to meet again. The appointed day came, and was misty and drizzly. It never occurred to me that the weather would keep any one housed, and at the lunch hour 'the guests were met, the feast was set'—or, at least, two of the guests were there—but the one in whose honor they had been invited failed to appear. A whole mortal hour did we wait for that woman. Then in despair we sat down to a luncheon that had been in no ways improved by the delay. It was to have been a partie carrée, and one side of the table looked wofully blank and bare."

"But did you not get a satisfactory explanation of your friend's absence?" queries an interested listener.

"Only a note the next day, stating that as it had stormed, she had supposed I would not expect her. It never seemed to occur to her that she ought at least to have telegraphed."