all sorts, vinegar, cloves; and never forget pepper and salt.

Game is like Love, the best appreciated when it begins to go. Only
experience will teach you, on blowing up the breast feathers of a
pheasant, whether it ought to be cooked to-day or to-morrow. Men, as a
rule, are very particular about the dressing of game, though they may not
all be able to tell, like the Frenchman, upon which of her legs a
partridge was in the habit of sitting. Game should be underdone rather
than well done; it should never be without well-buttered toast underneath
it to collect the gravy, and the knife to carve it with should be very,
very sharp.

VEGETABLES: Nearly all these are at their best (like brunettes) just
before they are fully matured. So says a great authority, and no doubt he
is thinking of young peas and beans, lettuces and asparagus. Try to dress
such things as potatoes, parsnips, cabbages, carrots, in other ways than
simply boiled in water, for the water often removes the flavor and leaves
the fiber. Do not let your vegetable-dishes remind your guests of
Froissart's account of Scotchmen's food, which was "rubbed in a little
water."

SWEETS: It is difficult to give any general directions for sweets. They
should be made to look attractive, and they should be constantly varied.
The same remarks apply to savories, which last ought always to be highly
seasoned, whether hot or cold.

MADE DISHES are a great feature in this little book. I have tried to help
those small households who cook, let us say, a leg of mutton on Sunday,
and then see it meander through the week in various guises till it ends
its days honorable as soup on the following Friday. Endeavor to hide from