a little flour over it a few minutes before taking from the oven. Serve with the very best of currant-jelly, and send to table with it a few choice early vegetables. Mint-sauce may be served with the joint, but in a very mild form.

Pork.-Pork, more than any other meat, requires to be chosen with the greatest care. The pig, from its gluttonous habits, is particularly liable to disease; and if killed and eaten when in an unhealthy condition, those who partake of it will probably pay dearly for their indulgence. Dairy-fed pork is the best; and knowing this fact, a number of our first-class hotels raise their own pork on farms connected with their country residences. Among them may be montioned the Continental Hotel, Philadelphia; the Astor, Union Square, Sturtevant, Hoffman, Fifth Avenue, Windsor, and several other leading hotels in New York City. We are indebted to Chas. Lamb for the history of roast pig. In his essays he says: "The art of roasting, or rather broiling (which I take to be the elder brother), was accidentally discovered in the manner following: The swineherd Ho-ti, having gone out into the woods one morning, as his manner was, to collect mast for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his eldest son, Bo bo, a great, lubberly boy, who, being fond of playing with fire, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which, kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every part of their poor mansion till it was reduced to ashes. Together with the cottage, what was of much more importance, a fine litter of new farrowed pigs, no less than nine in number, perished. Bo-bo was in the utmost consternation, as you may think, not so much for the sake of the tenement-which his father and he could easily build up again with a few dry branches, and the labor of an hour or two, at any time-as for the loss of the pigs. While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands, an odor assailed his nostrils unlike any scent which he had before experienced. What could it proceed from? Not from the burnt cottage; he had smelt that before. Indeed, this was by no means the first accident which had oc

curred through the negligence of this unlucky firebrand. A premonitory moistening at the same time overflowed his nether lip. He knew not what to think. He next stooped down to feel the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. He burnt his fingers, and to cool them he applied them in his booby fashion to his mouth. Some of the crumbs of the scorched skin had come away with his fingers, and for the first time in his life (in the world's, indeed, for before him no man had known it) he tasted-crackling! Again he felt and fumbled at the pig. It did not burn him so much now; still, he licked his fingers from a sort of habit. The truth at length broke into his slow understanding that it was the pig that smelt so and the pig that tasted so delicious; and surrendering himself up to the new-born pleasure, he fell to tearing up whole handfuls of the scorched skin, with the flesh next it, and was cramming it down his throat in his beastly fashion when his sire entered amid the smoking rafters, and, finding how affairs stood, began to rain blows upon the young rogue's shoulders as thick as hailstones, which Bo-bo heeded not any more than if they had been flies. The tickling pleasure which he experienced in his lower regions had rendered him quite callous to any inconveniences he might feel in those remote quarters. Bo-bo's scent, being wonderfully sharpened since morning, soon raked out another pig, and, fairly rending it asunder, thrust the lesser half by main force into the fists of Ho-ti, still shouting out, Eat, eat! Eat the burnt pig, father! Only taste!' It is needless to state that both father and son despatched the remainder of the litter. Bo-bo was strictly enjoined not to let the secret escape. Nevertheless strange stories got about; it was observed that Ho-ti's cottage was burnt down now more frequently than ever. As often as the sow farrowed, so soon was the house of Ho-ti seen to be in a blaze. At length they were watched, the terrible mystery discovered, and father and son summoned to take their trial at Peking, then an inconsiderable assize town. Evidence was given, the obnoxious food itself produced in court, and verdict about to be pronounced, when the foreman of the jury

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begged that some of the burnt pig of which the culprit stood accused might be handed into the box. He handled it, and they all handled it; and burning their fingers as Bo-bo and his father had done before them, and nature prompting to each of them the same remedy, against the face of all the facts and the clearest charge which judge had ever given, to the surprise of the whole court, townsfolk, strangers, reporters (they had Howards and Raymonds in those days), and all present, without leaving the box, or any manner of consultation whatever, they brought in a simultaneous verdict of not guilty.

Dr. Kitchiner on Pork.—“Take particular care it be done enough. Other meats underdone. are unpleasant, but pork is absolutely uneatable; the sight of it is enough to appall the sharpest appetite, if its gravy has the least tint of redness. Be careful of the crackling; if this be not crisp, or if it be burned, you will be scolded."

The Turkey. The turkey, says Brillat-Savarin, "is the largest, and, if not the most delicate, at least the most savory of domestic poultry. It enjoys the singular advantage of assembling around it every class of society. When our farmers and wine-growers regale themselves on a winter's evening, what do we see roasting before the kitchen fire, close to which the white-clothed table is set? A turkey! When the useful tradesman or the hard-worked artist invites a few friends to an occasional treat, what dish is he expected to set before them? A nice roast turkey stuffed with sausage-meat and Lyons chestnuts. And in our highest gastronomical society, when politics are obliged to give way to dissertations on matters of taste, what is desired, what is awaited, what is looked out for at the second course? A truffled turkey. In my Secret Memoirs' I find sundry notes recording that on many occasions its restorative juice has illumined diplomatic faces of the highest eminence."

Now, the average American could not be induced to eat a turkey stuffed with sausage-meat; he would naturally say

that if the useful tradesman "or the hard-working artist" experienced any pleasure over such a compound, he was welcome to it; to him sausage-meat was too suggestive of pork and-mystery. But the Lyons chestnuts-ah! yes, that will do, for he has tasted chestnut stuffing and has learned to like it. A dissertation on truffles, while waiting for the "truffled turkey" to be served, is all that is necessary to make him say he is passionately fond of them in any form, otherwise he would be apt to ask the waiter to remove the dressing from his plate, as it was full of small pieces of charcoal" (an actual occurrence).

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Roast Turkey.-Singe the bird, and in drawing it preserve the heart, gizzard, and liver; remove the gall-bag from the liver, and be very careful not to break it, as if any of the liquid touches the bird no amount of washing will remove the bitter taste. Cut off the neck close to the body, and before doing so push back the skin of the neck so that sufficient may be left on to turn over the back; remove a part of the fat adhering to the skin; split the breast-bone from the inside, or place several folds of cloth on the high breast-bone and break and flatten it a little with a rolling-pin to make the bird look plump. Fill the breast and body with stuffing; sew up the opening with coarse thread; turn the neck-skin over the back and fasten it; truss the legs close to the breast, the wings turn over the back, using skewers or twine to hold them in proper position. Put the turkey in the dripping-pan with a little hot water, dredge it with flour, and lay a few small pieces of butter upon it, and the feet, scalded and scraped, under it. Baste frequently. Time, from two to three hours, according to the size of the bird.

Should he prove to be of doubtful age and rich in spurs and scaly feet, parboil him. Put him in a saucepan or pot, cover with cold water, add a teaspoonful of salt, and when the water comes to a boil take out the bird and dry it well before stuffing it.

Chestnut Stuffing.-Roast a pint of chestnuts and peel off the outer and inner skin; weigh them, and simmer half a pound

of them for twenty minutes in as much veal gravy as will cover them; drain and let them cool; then pound them in a mortar with four ounces of butter, three ounces of breadcrumbs, a trifle of grated lemon-peel and powdered mace, salt, and a pinch of cayenne; bind the mixture with the yolks of three eggs.

Chestnuts roasted or boiled may be added to almost any stuffing for fowl, etc., and give general satisfaction. I once made a stuffing of chestnuts, apple-sauce, bread-crumbs, and the proper seasoning for a 'possum, and all who tasted of it pronounced it a dainty dish. One of the party, Dr. Hnever tires of talking about "that 'possum with the chestnuts."

Oyster Stuffing.-Remove the heart (or what some call the eye) from two dozen oysters, mince them finely, pound them to a paste, and mix with them five ounces of bread-crumbs, an ounce of butter, the grated rind of half a lemon, a tablespoonful of chopped parsley, a pinch of cayenne, an even teaspoonful of salt, and half a teaspoonful of pepper. When well mixed bind the mixture with the yolk of an egg and a small quantity of the oyster liquid added gradually.

Bread Stuffing.-Grate sufficient bread to fill the bird; moisten it with milk, and season with salt, pepper, sweet marjoram, and the grated rind of one lemon. Add a tablespoonful of butter, and bind the mixture with yolk of egg. Add a few raw whole oysters, if desired.

Roast Capon. They should be managed in the same way as turkeys, and served with the same sauces. I cannot quite come to the conclusion that a roast capon is equal in flavor to one boiled and served with egg-sauce.

Roast Chicken.-Singe your chickens and truss them carefully. Broilers, as they are called, are better without stuffing, unless they are very large. Season with salt, put small Dits of butter over the meat, and place them in the pan with a little water or veal stock; baste occasionally and dredge