In foreign kitchens

divides itself, as it were, instinctively into "portions," — a fact a little galling to the American, not accustomed to have it defined just how much is his legitimate share. The French housekeeper leaves no margins, and there is never perplexity as to what shall be done with this or that, since there is but just enough, and even not quite enough to fully satisfy. If a friend comes in at breakfast or dinner, a charcutier is always near, and "portions" can appear instantly. But the actual fact is that the friend doesn't come in. French hospitality means a stated invitation, and the utmost resources of the house. It does not mean any informal good times, in which a friend runs in to lunch, or an informal breakfast. The Frenchwoman holds up her hands in horror as she hears of such methods. " Another example of American profuseness. No wonder they have no dower for the daughters ! " she cries, and shakes her head over this mysterious nation. In turn, the American can never become accustomed to an economy which seems even pinching, and in the exasperation at many of its phases fails to become pos- sessor of a thousand useful suggestions in this very direction. For much that makes the charm of dishes served in the French fashion, with "garnish " of many varieties, the American is too busy. The cook in the middle-class family, that is, the family owning comfortable income, but not great wealth, must usually fill several other places also, and an hour or two spent in cutting flowers and leaves from turnips and carrots, or numberless little balls from which mounds of garnish are made, would be sheer robbery. But till she has learned the secrets of the French stock-pot, of frying daintily so that not an atom of grease remains on cutlet, or chop, or croquette, or fritter, and of using scraps and the left-over portions of meat, etc., she can never be really a cook in the best sense of the word. Here the Frenchwoman has every advantage over the American, and knows many secrets which have not found their way into the cook-books. She has her traditions, too, — family dishes handed down from mother to daughter, and used on festival occasions. But she is content to let the confectioner and baker provide her sweets and ices, and thus the French kitchen is relieved of one burden. In short, the slightest of demands is made upon it. No washing ; no ironing ; no bread, nor biscuit, nor sweets of any order, save as a few jellies or creams may be made. Household labor is reduced to a fixed system. Everything falls into line, and the French housekeeper knows nothing of the uncertainties and responsibilities of her American sister. Be it said, also, that she misses many of her pleasures, and might, in turn, take a lesson or so. Being born to the unexpected, and facing, new combinations and complications every day of her life, the American housekeeper has a hundred resources where the Frenchwoman has one. She is, moreover, the most ready of hostesses, and even if the first course in an American dinner is, as an ill-natured English traveller put it, "roasted mistress," it makes small difference in the sum of enjoyment, though the wear and tear of nerves is a serious side of the matter. With the trained ser\'ice which is on the way, and