clod of earth taken from a bird's foot?

It is to be regretted that Samuel Johnson never wrote the manual that he
contemplated. "Sir," he said, "I could write a better book of cookery
than has ever yet been written. It should be a book on philosophical
principles."

Perhaps the pies of Fleet Street reminded him of the Black Broth of the
Spartans which the well-fed Dionysius found excessively nasty; the tyrant
was curtly told that it was nothing indeed without the seasoning of
fatigue and hunger. We do not wish a meal to owe its relish solely to the
influence of extreme hunger--it must have a beautiful nature all its own,
it must exhibit the idea of Thing-in-Itself in an easily assimilable
form.

I am convinced, anyhow, that this little collection (formed through the
kindness of our Belgian friends) will work miracles; for there are plenty
of miracles worked nowadays, though not by those romantic souls who think
that things come by themselves. Good dinners certainly do not, and I end
with this couplet:

A douce woman and a fu' wame
Maks King and cottar bide at hame.

Which, being interpreted, means that if you want a man to stay at home,
you must agree with him and so must his dinner.

M. LUCK.