Common-sense papers on cookery

Pocket your ^50, give quite a plain breakfast — no champagne at all — brave Common-sense Cookery. the world, and then furnish a room in the new house with the money, and instead of calling it “ the breakfast-room,” call it “ the wedding-breakfast room.” One word in conclusion. If you will give champagne, give it good, or they will all laugh at you — they will indeed, they will laugh. Young men, bachelor friends of your son-in-law, will say, “ Did you taste that fellow’s wine? Wasn’t it awful?” — which will call forth the remark, “ Ah, I don’t suppose he had opened many before.” Therefore, whatever you do, give good champagne, or none. XX.— FOOD FOR INVALIDS. The sick-room — what echoes does not the very name awaken in the memories of the past ! There are few moments in our lives’ history more solemn than those when we have watched by the bedside of one we love, whose life is trembling in the balance, and whose soul and body seem held together by so slight a thread that a breath of wind would part them. What vows have we not vowed, what good resolutions have we not formed, and how chastened have our minds been in these our hours of agony ! for of very truth “adversity doth best discover virtue.” Then — the doctor’s visit. With what an anxious look will the wife, wearied with watching, try and read his eyes as he feels the pulse of the languid patient ! what a rush of joy fills her heart, as she sees the doctor smile ! for hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. The crisis is past, the patient is pronounced much better, and is ordered some good strong beef-tea. With burning eyes and bursting heart the thankful wife turns away to give the necessary orders, not forgetful, let us trust, of her vows vowed, of her resolutions 242 Common-sense Cookery. made, or of the Great Physician who alone can cause the blind to see and the lame to walk. Like a calm sea to the tempest-tost, like a draught of water after parching thirst, like a bed of down to the wearied traveller, do these sweet hours of convalescence follow after those weary ones of watching, when hope deferred made the heart sick — “ Oh ! these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears.” What pleasure, too, to watch the patient take his first cup of beef-tea or his first chop with evident enjoyment, and to see the faint tinge of colour return to the pale cheeks, foretelling of returning health and strength, as surely as the first blush of dawn upon the eastern mountain-tops foretells the coming day ! Again, too, the refreshment taken, the first long sound sleep, nature’s great restorer, how different to watch now, to when the restless patient tossed and turned and muttered, and seemed to suffer more than when awake ! There is something very beautiful in a calm and tranquil sleep — * 1 An infant when it gazes on the light, A child the moment when it drains the breast, * # * » -* Feel rapture, but not such true joy are reaping As they who watch o’er what they love while sleeping. Food for Invalids. * 243 “For there it lies, so tranquil, so beloved, All that it hath of life with us is living, So gentle, stirless, helpless, and unmoved, And all unconscious of the joy ’tis giving.”