Cooking and castle-building

" By no means," I replied. " But I would have the coffee-pot the size required, for you can't make a pint of coffee in a quart pot, and have it of perfect quality. If there is more room in the pot than is required, air fills the space and deteriorates the quality of the coffee. Beside, a pint of coffee tumbling about in a two-quart pot is sure to be unsettled in pouring. Alice, not long since I made coffee for a young gentleman, who, when asked if it was good, answered, — and his voice and face were very grave and serious, — 'It is simply divine.'" "O Cousin Kate ! " laughingly exclaimed Alice ; "I tremble when I think of the possible consequences of your having made such a cup of coffee, had that young man been twenty years older." "Or Cousin Kate twenty years younger," I rejoined. "But, nonsense aside, Alice, I'm sure you would like to know just how that coffee was made. It was mixed coffee — two parts Eio, two parts Java, and one part Mocha, all of the best quality. In strength, it was made in the proportion of three heaping tablespoonfuls of coffee to one and a half cups of water. That, you see, is three times as strong as the directions just given. It was made with cold water, carefully steeped, and perfectly settled, and, before pouring, the cup was two-thirds filled with boiled milk, and then filled with the strong coffee ; which made, in the estimation of that young man, a draught fit for the gods.' "In boiling milk for coffee, Alice, do not let it actually boil, but let it come just as near boiling as possible and escape it, for it must be very hot. But the flavor is finer in coffee if it is taken after it is so heated as to be inflated with fine bubbles, but not actually boiled. With a milk-boiler this is easily managed ; for, just at the right moment, it can be set back and kept hot for a long time." While we were loitering over breakfast, discussing the merits of coffee, Tom, the gardener's son, brought us the morning mail. Among various and sundry letters, postal-cards, etc., I found the following missives, the first from an old bachelor cousin of mine, and the other from an intimate lady friend. The old bachelor, who is very abstemious in his habits, and exceedingly fond of English breakfast tea and dry toast, wrote : — " When do you expect to find leisure for that long-promised cook-book? I do hope you will write it soon, and will give such minute directions in it for making both tea and toast, that no one can fail to understand them. Strange as it may seem, our best cook-books are ominously silent, or hopelessly bewildering, about the methods of making either ; and I pray you to step to the front, and furnish the much-needed information. It would appear, at first blush, as if any one might make good tea or good toast without instruction ; yet it is a singular fact, that at the average table one is about as great a rarity as the other. I confess to a weakness for Uhe cup that cheers but does not inebriate,' for, to my taste, no other beverage is so delicious as well-made tea ; but for the sloppy, bitter, or smoky-tasting decoctions that are foisted upon us at hotels, restaurants, and private houses, under that name, I have the most inefiable contempt.