Familiar Talk with my fellow-housekeepers and Reader.

A TALK as woman to woman, in which each shall say, "I" and "you" and "my dear," and "you know" as freely as she pleases. It would not be a womanly chat if we omitted these forms of expression. An informal preface to what I mean shall be an informal book-bristling with "I's" all the way through. If said bristles offend the critic's touch, let him remember that this work is not prepared for the library, but for readers who trouble themselves little about editorial "we's" and the circumlocutions of literary modesty.

I wish it were in my power to bring you, the prospective owner of this volume, in person, as I do in spirit, to my side on this winter evening, when the bairnies are "folded like the flocks;" the orders for breakfast com-mitted to the keeping of Bridget, or Gretchen, or Chloe, or the plans for the morrow definitely laid in the brain of that ever-busy, but most independent of women, the housekeeper who "does her own work." I should perhaps summon to our cozy conference a very weary companion-weary of foot, of hand-and I should not deserve to be your confidant, did I not know how often heart-weary with discouragement; with much producing of ways and means; with a certain despondent looking forward to the monotonous grinding of who household machine; to the certainty, proved by past experience, that toilsome as has been this day, the morrow will prove yet more abundant in labors, in trials of strength, and nerves, and temper. You would tell me what a dreary problem this of "woman's work that is never done" is to your fainting soul; how, try as you may and as you do to be systematic and diligent, something is always "turning up" in the treadmill to keep you on the strain; how you often say to yourself, in bitterness of spirit, that it is a mistake of Christian civilization to educate girls into a love of science and literature, and then condemn them to the routine of a domestic drudge. You do not see, you say, that years of scholastic training will make you a better cook, a better wife or mother. You have seen the time-nay many times, since assuming your present position-when you would have exchanged your knowledge of ancient and modern languages, belles-lettres, music, and natural science, for the skill of a competent kitchen-maid, The "learning how" is such hard work! Labor, too, uncheered by encouraging words from mature housewives, unsoftened by sympathy even from your husband, or your father or brother, or whoever may be the "one" to whom you "make home lovely." It may be that, in utter discouragement, you have made up your mind that you have "no talent for these things."

I have before me now the picture of a wife, the mother of four children, who, many years ago, sickened me for all time with that phrase. In a slatternly morning-gown at four in the afternoon, leaning back in the laziest and most ragged of rocking-chairs, dust on the carpet, on the open piano, the mantel, the mirrors, even on her own hair, she rubbed the soft palm of one band with the grimy fingers of the other, and with a sickly-sweet smile whined out-

"Now, I am one of the kind who have no talent for such things I The kitchen and housework and sewing are absolutely hateful to me-utterly uncongenial to my turn of mind. The height of my earthly ambition is to have nothing to do but to paint on velvet all day!"

I felt then, in the height of my indignant disgust, that there was propriety as well as wit in the "Spectator's" suggestion that every young woman should, before fixing the wedding-day, be compelled by law to exhibit to inspectors a prescribed number of useful articles as her outfit-napery, bed-linen, clothing, etc., made by her own hands, and that it would be wise legislation which should add to these proofs of her fitness for her new sphere a practical knowledge of housework and cookery.

If you have not what our Yankee grandmothers termed a "faculty" for housewifery-yet are obliged, as is the case with an immense majority of American women, to conduct the affairs of a household, bills of fare included- there is the more reason for earnest application to your profession. If the natural taste be dull, lay to it more strength of will-resolution born of a just sense of the importance of the knowledge and dexterity you would acquire. Do not scoff at the word "profession." Call not that common and unclean which Providence has designated as your life-work. I speak not now of the labors of the culinary department alone; but, without naming the other duties which you and you only can perform, I do insist that upon method skill, economy in the kitchen, depends so much of the well-being of the rest of the household, that it may safely be styled the root-the foundation of housewifery. I own it would be pleasanter in most cases, especially to those who have cultivated a taste for intellectual pursuits, to live above the heat and odor of this department. It must be very fine to have an efficient aide-de-camp in the person of a French cook, or a competent sub-manager, or an accomplished head-waiter who receives your orders for the day in vour boudoir or library, and executes the same with zeal and discretion that leave you no room for anxiety or regret Such mistresses do not need cookery-books. The few-and it must be borne in mind that in this country these are very few-born in an estate like this would not comprehend what I am now writing ; would not enter into the depths of that compassionate yearning which moves me as I think of what I have known for myself in the earlier years of my wedded life, what I have heard and seen in ether households of honest intentions brought to contempt; of ill-directed toil; of mortification, and the heavy, wearing sense of inferiority that puts the novice at such a woful disadvantage in. a community of notable managers.

There is no use in enlarging upon this point. You and I might compare experiences by the hour without exhaust-big our store.

"And then"-you sigh, with a sense of resentment upon you, however amiable your disposition, for the provocation is dire-"cookery-books and young housekeepers assistants, and all that sort of thing, are such humbugs!- dark lanterns at best-too often Will-o'-the-wisps."

My dear, would you mind handing me the book which lies nearest you on the table there? "Dickens?" Of course. You will usually find something of his in every room in this house-almost as surely as you will a Bible-It rests and refreshes one to pick him up at odd times, and dip in anywhere. Hear the bride, Mrs. John Rokesmith, upon our common grievance.

"She was under the constant necessity of referring for advice and support to a sage volume, entitled 'The Complete British Family Housewife,' which she would sit consulting, with her elbows upon the table, and her temples in her hands, like some perplexed enchantress poring over the Black Art. This, principally because the Complete British Housewife, however sound a Briton at heart, was by no means an expert Briton at expressing herself with clearness in the British tongue, and sometimes might have issued her directions to equal purpose in the Kamtchatkan language."

Don't interrupt me, my long-suffering sister! There is more of the same sort to come.

"There was likewise a coolness on the part of 'The Complete British Housewife' which Mrs. John Rokesmith found highly exasperating. She would say, 'Take a salamander,' as if a general should command a private to catch a Tartar. Or, she would casually issue the order, Throw in a handful' of something entirely unattainable. In these, the housewife's most glaring moments of unreason, Bella would shut her up and knock her on the table, apostrophizing her with the compliment-'O you ARE a stupid old donkey! Where am I to get it, do you think?'"

When I took possession of my first real home, the prettily furnished cottage to which I came as a bride, more full of hope and courage than if I had been wiser, five good friends presented me with as many cookery-books, each complete, and all by different compilers. One day's investigation of my menage convinced me that my lately-hired servants knew no more about cookery than I did, or affected stupidity to develop my capabilities or ignorance. Too proud to let them suspect the truth, or to have it bruited abroad as a topic for pitying or contemptuous gossip, I shut myself up with my "Complete Housewives," and inclined seriously to the study of the same, comparing one with the other, and seeking to shape a theory which should grow into practice in accordance with the best authority. I don't like to remember that time! The question of disagreeing doctors, and the predicament of falling between two stools, are trivial perplexities when compared with my strife and failure.

Said the would-be studious countryman to whom a mischievous acquaintance lens "Webster's Unabridged Dictionary" as an entertaining volume, "I wrastled, and I wrastled, and I wrastled with it, but I couldn't get up much of an interest."

My wrestling begat naught save pitiable confusion, hope less distress, and a three-days' sick headache, during which season I am not sure that I did not darkly contemplate suicide as the only euro escape from the meshes that girt me. At the height--or depth-of my despondency & friend, one with a great heart and steady brain, came to my rescue, Her cheerful laugh over my dilemma rings down to me now, through all these years, refreshingly as it then saluted my ears

"Bless your innocent little heart!" she cried, in her fresh, gay voice, "Ninety-nine out of a hundred cook-books are written by people who never kept bouse, and the hundredth by a good cook who yet doesn't know how to express herself to the enlightenment of others. Compile a receipt-book for yourself. Make haste slowly. Learn one thing at a time, and when you have mastered it, 'make a note on it,' as Captain Cuttle says-never losing sight of the principle that you must do it in order to learn how."

Then she opened to me her own neatly-written "Manual"-the work of years, recommending, as I seized it, that I should commence my novitiate with simple dishes.

This was the beginning of the hoard of practical receipts I now offer for your inspection. For fifteen years, I have steadily pursued this work, gleaning here and sifting there, and levying such remorseless contributions upon my friends that I fear the sight of my paper and pencil has long since become a bugbear. For the kindness and courtesy which have been my invariable portion in this quest, I hereby re turn hearty thanks. For the encouraging words and good wishes that have ever answered the hint of my intention to collect what had proved so valuable to me into a printed volume, I declare myself to be yet more a debtor. I da not claim for my compend the proud pre-eminence of the "Complete American Housewife." It is no boastful system of "Cookery Taught in Twelve Lessons," And I should write myself down a knave or a fool, -were I to assert that a raw cook or ignorant mistress can, by half-a-day's study of my collection, equal Soyer or Blot, or even approximate the art of a half-taught scullion.

We may as well start from the right point, if we hope to continue friends. You must learn the rudiments of the art for yourself. Practice, and practice alone, will teach you certain essentials. The management of the ovens, the requisite thickness of boiling custards, the right shade of brown upon bread and roasted meats-these and dozens of other details are hints which cannot he imparted by written or oral instructions. But, once learned, they are never forgotten, and henceforward your fate is in your own hand. You are mistress of yourself, though servants leave. Have faith in your own abilities. You will be a better cook for the mental training you have received at school and from books. Brains tell everywhere, to say nothing of intelligent observation, just judgment, a faithful memory and orderly habits. Consider that you have a profession, as I said just now, and resolve to understand it in all its branches. My book is designed to help you. I believe it will, if for no other reason because it has been a faithful guide to myself-a reference beyond value in seasons of doubt and need. I have brought every receipt to the test of common sense and experience. Those which I have not tried myself were obtained from reliable housewives-the best I know. I have enjoyed the task heartily, and from first to last the persuasion has never left me that I was engaged in a good cause. Throughout I have had you,"my dear sister, present before me, with the little plait between your brows, the wistful look about eye and mouth that reveal to me, a words could not, your desire to "do your best,"

"In a humble home, and in a humble way," I hear you add, perhaps: you "are not ambitious;" you "only want to help John, and to make him and the children comfortable and happy."

Heaven reward your honest, loyal endeavors! Would you mind if I were to whisper a word in your ear I don't care to have progressive people hear?-although progress is a grand thing when it takes the right direction. My dear, John and the children, and the humble home, make your sphere for the present, you say. Be sure you fill it- full! before you seek one wider and higher. There is no better receipt between these covers than that. Leave the rest to God. Everybody knows those four lines of George Herbert's, which ought to be framed and hung up in the work-room of every house :-

"A servant, with this clause, Makes drudgery divine;Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws Makes that and th' action fine."

I wonder if the sainted poet knows-in that land where drudgery is one of the rough places forever overpast, and work is unmingled blessing-to how many sad and striving hearts those words have brought peace ?

And by way of helping John, not only by saving money and preparing palatable and wholesome dishes for his table, but by sparing the wife he loves many needless steps and much hurtful care, will you heed a homely hint or two relative to the practice of your art? Study method, and economy of time and strength, no less than of materials. I take it for granted that you are too intelligent to share in the vulgar prejudice against labor-saving machines. A raisin-seeder costs a trifle in comparison with the time and patience required to stone the fruit in the old way. A good egg-beater is a treasure. So with farina-kettles, syllabub churns, apple-corers, potato-peelers and slicers, clothes-wringers and sprinklers, and the like. Most of these are made of tin-are therefore cheap and easily kept clean. Let each article have its own place in the closet and kitchen, to which restore it so soon as you have done using it. Before undertaking the preparation of any dish, road over the receipt carefully, unless you are thoroughly familiar with the manufacture of it. Many excellent housewives have a fashion of saying loftily, when asked how such things are made-"I carry all my receipts in my head. I never wrote out one in my life."

And you, if timid and self-distrustful, are smitten with shame, keep your receipt-book out of sight, and cram your memory with ingredients and measures, times and weighty for fear Mrs. Notable should suspect you of rawness and inefficiency. Whereas the truth is, that if you have a, mind worthy of the name, its powers are too valuable to bo laden. with such details. Master the general principles, as I said just now, and for particulars look to your marching-orders. Having refreshed your memory by this reference, pick out from your household stores, arid set in convenient order, within reach of your hand, everything you will need in making ready the particular compound under consideration. Then take your stand in the midst-or sit, if you can. It is common sense-oftentimes a pious duty, to take judicious care of your physical health. I lay it down as a safe and imperative rule for kitchen use-Never stand when you can do your work as well while sitting. If I could have John's ear for a minute, I would tell him that which would lead him to watch you and exercise wholesome authority in this regard.

Next, prepare each ingredient for mixing, that the bread, cake, pudding, soup? or ragout may not be delayed when half finished because the flour is not sifted, or the "shortening" warmed, the sugar and butter are not creamed, the meat not cut up, or the herbs not minced. Don't begin until you are ready; then go steadily forward, "without haste, without rest," and think of what you are doing.

"Dickens again?"

Why not, since there is no more genial and pertinent philosopher of common life and every-day subjects? To quote, then:-

"It was a maxim of Captain Swosser's," said Mrs. Badger, "speaking in his figurative, naval manner, that when you make pitch hot, you cannot make it too hot, and that if you have only to swab a plank, yon should swab it as If Davy Jones were after you. It appears to me that this maxim is applicable to the medical as well ay the nautical profession."

"To all professions" observed Mr. Badger. "It was admirably said by Captain Swosser; beautifully said!"

But it will sometimes happen that when you have heated your pitch, or swabbed your deck, or made your pudding according to the lights set before you, the result is a failure. This is especially apt to occur in a maiden effort. You have wasted materials and time, and suffered, moreover, acute demoralization-are enwrapped in a wet blanket of discouragement, instead of the seemly robe of complacency. Yet no part of the culinary education is more useful, if turned to proper account, than this very discipline of failure. It is a stepping-stone to excellence-sharp, it is true, but often sure. You have learned how not to do it right, which is the next thing to success. It is pretty certain that yon will avoid, in your second essay, the rock upon which you have split this time. And, after all, there are few failure which are utter and irremediable. Scorched soups and custards, sour bread, biscuit yellow with soda, and cake heavy as lead, come under the head of "hopeless," They are absolutely unfit to be set before civilized beings and educated stomachs. Should such mishaps occur, lock the memory of the attempt in your own bosom, and do not vex or amuse John and your guests with the narration still less with visible proof of the calamity. Many a partial failure would pass unobserved but for the clouded brow and earnest apologies of the hostess. Do not apologize except at the last gasp! If there is but one chance in ten that a single person present may not discover the deficiency which has changed all food on the table to dust and gravel-stones to you, trust to the one chance, and carry off the matter bravely. You will be astonished to find, if you keep your wits about you how often even your husband will remain in blissful ignorance that aught has gone wrong, if you do not tell him. You know so well what should have been the product of your labor that you exaggerate the justice of others' perceptions. Console yourself, furthermore, with the reflection that yours is not the first failure upon record, nor the million-and-first, and that there will be as many tomorrows as there have been yesterdays,

Don't add to a trifling contretemps the real discomfort of a discontented or fretful wife. Say blithely, if John note your misfortune- "I hope to do better another time," and do not be satisfied until you have redeemed your pledge. Experience and your quick wit will soon teach you how to avert impending evils of this nature, how to snatch your preparations from imminent destruction, and, by ingenious correctives or concealments, to make them presentable. These you will soon learn for yourself if you keep before you the truism I have already written, to wit, that few failures are beyond repair.

Never try experiments for the benefit of invited guests nor, when John is at home, risk the success of your meal upon a new dish. Have something which you know he can eat, and introduce experiments as by-play. But do not bo too shy of innovations in the shape of untried dishes. Variety is not only pleasant, but healthful. The least pampered palate will weary of stereotyped bills of fare. It is an idea which should have been exploded long ago, that plain roast, boiled, and fried, on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, cod-fish on Friday, with pork-and-beans every Saturday, are means of grace, because economical. And with this should have vanished the prejudice against warmed-over meals-or réchauffés, as our French friends term them. I have tried, in the following pages, to set forth the attractions of these, their claims to your attention as being savory, economical, nourishing, and often elegant, In preparing these acceptably, everything depends upon your own taste and skill. Season with judgment, cook just enough and not a minute too long, and dish nicely. The recommendation of the eye to the palate is a point no cook can afford to disregard. If you can offer an unexpected visitor nothing better than bread-and-butter and cold ham, he will enjoy the luncheon twice as much if the bread be sliced thinly and evenly, spread smoothly, each slice folded in the middle upon the buttered surface, and piled symmetrically ; if the ham be also cut thin, scarcely thicker than a wafer, and garnished with parsley, cresses, or curled lettuce. Set on mustard and pickles ; let the table-cloth and napkin be white and glossy; the glass clear, and plate Binning clean; and add to these accessories to comforts bright welcome, and, my word for it, you need fear no dis-satisfaction on his part, however epicurean may be his tastes. Should your cupboard be bare of aught more substantial than crackers and cheese, do not yield to dismay Split the crackers (if splittable), toast the inside lightly, and butter while hot. Grate your cheese into a powdery mound, garnishing the edges of the plate. If you have no beverage except water to set before him, let this be cool, and pour it out for him yourself, into an irreproachable glass. A dirty table-cloth, a smeared goblet, or a sticky plate, will spoil the most luxurious feast. A table well set is half-spread.

I have not said one-tenth of that which is pressing upon my heart and mind, yet I fear you may think me trite and tedious. One suggestion more, and we will proceed to the details of business.

I believe that, so far as care can avail in securing such a result, my receipts are accurate. But in the matter of seasoning and other minor details, consult your judgment and John's taste. Take this liberty with whatever receipt you think you can improve. If I chance to find in your work-basket, or upon the kitchen dresser, a well-thumbed copy of my beloved "Common Sense," with copious annotations in the margin, I shall, so far from feeling wounded, be flattered in having so diligent a student, and, with your permission, shall engraft the most happy suggestions upon the second edition.

For the speedy issue of which, the petitioner doth humbly pray.

There is an illegible handwritten inscription beside the above paragraph.

MARION HARLAND.

FISH.

BOILED CODFISH. (Fresh) Lay the fish in cold water, slightly salted, for half an hour before it is time to cook it. Wipe it dry and put it into the fish-kettle with water enough to cover it, in which has been dissolved a little salt. Let it boil quite briskly A piece of cod weighing three pounds will be cooked in half an hour from the time the water fairly boils, if put in without a cloth. But by far the better plan is, when the cod hag been wiped free of the salt and water, to wrap it in a clean linen cloth kept for such purposes. The cloth should be dredged with flour, to prevent sticking. Sew up the edges in such a manner as to envelop the fish entirely, yet have but one thickness of the cloth over any part. The wrapping should be fitted neatly to the shape of the piece to be cooked. Fish cooked thus will require twice as long to boil as when put into the water without such protection; but the flavor is better preserved, and when unwrapped, it will not present the sodden appearance and crumbling grain that disfigure most boiled fish.

Have ready a sauce prepared thus:-

To one gill boiling water add as much milk, and when it is scalding-hot, stir in-leaving the sauce-pan on the fire-two tablespoonfuls of butter, a little at a time, that it may melt without oiling, a tablespoonful of flour previously wet with cold water, and, as this thickens, two beaten eggs. Season with salt and chopped parsley, and when, after one good boil, you withdraw it from the fire, add a dozen capers, or pickled nasturtium seeds, or, if you prefer, a spoonful of vinegar in which celery-seeds have been steeped. Put the fish into a hot dish, and pour the sauce over it. Some serve in a butter-boat ; but I fancy that the boiling sauce applied to the steaming fish imparts a richness it cannot gain later. Garnish with sprigs of parley and circles of hard-boiled eggs, laid around the edge of the dish.

ROCKFISH. Rockfish and river-bass are very nice, cooked as above, but do not need to be boiled so long as codfish.

BOILED CODFISH. (Salt.) Put the fish to soak over night in lukewarm water-as early as eight o'clock in the evening. Change this for more warm water at bed-time and cover closely. Change again in the morning and wash off the salt. Two hours before dinner take out the cod, examine to see that no crystals of salt adhere to the under part, and plunge into very cold water. This makes it firm. Finally set over the fire with enough lukewarm water to cover it, and boil for half an hour. Drain well; lay it in a hot dish, and pour over it egg-sauce prepared as in the foregoing receipt, only substituting the yolks of two hard-boiled eggs, rubbed to a paste with butter, for the beaten raw egg.

This is a useful receipt for country housekeepers who can seldom procure fresh cod. Salt mackerel, prepared in the same way, will well repay the care and time required, so superior is it to the Friday's dish of salt fish, as usually served.

Should the cold fish left over he used for fish-balls-as it should be-it will be found that the sauce which has soaked into it while hot has greatly improved it.

CODFISH BALLS. Prepare the fish precisely as for boiling whole. Cut in pieces when it has been duly washed and soaked, and boil twenty minutes. Turn off the water, and cover with fresh from the boiling tea-kettle. Boil twenty minutes more, drain the fish very dry, and spread upon a dish to cool. When perfectly cold, pick to pieces with a fork, removing every vestige of skin, and bone, and shredding very fine. When this is done, add an equal bulk of mashed potato work into a stiff batter by adding a lump of butter and sweet milk, and if you want to have them very nice, a beaten egg. Flour your hands and make the mixture into balls or cakes. Drop them into boiling lard or good dripping, and fry to a light brown. Plainer fish-cakes may be made of the cod and potatoes alone, moulded round like biscuit. In any shape the dish is popular.

It gives me great pleasure to recommend the desiccated cod-fish put up in boxes by the Boston and Philadelphia Salt Fish Company. The fish is already cooked and shred, and the housekeeper is thus saved the only disagreeable part of the process of malting this delightful breakfast relish-the boiling and the unsavory odor arising therefrom, as well as the care of soaking and picking out the fish. The balls prepared from the desiccated fish are every whit equal in flavor to those made of the home-cooked, and can be ready at half-an-hour's notice. The cost is not more-perhaps less, than when one buys the cod in bulk? bones and all.

SALT CODFISH STEWED WITH EGGS. Prepare the fish as for balls. Heat almost to boiling a pint of rich sweet milk, and stir into it, gradually arid carefully, three eggs well beaten, a tablespoonful of butter, a little chopped parsley and butter, with pepper, lastly the fish. Boil up once and turn into a deep covered dish, or chafing-dish lined with buttered toast. Eat hot for breakfast or supper.

CODFISH AND POTATO STEW. Soak, boil, and pick the ash, if salt, as for fish-balls. If fresh, boil and pick into bits. Add an equal quantity of mashed potatoes , a large tablespoonful of butter and milk, enough to make it very soft. Put into a skillet, and add a very little boiling water to keep it from burning. Turn and toss constantly until it is smoking hot but not dry ; add pepper and parsley, and dish.

BOILED MACKEREL. (Fresh.) Clean the mackerel and wipe carefully with a dry, clean cloth; wash them lightly with another cloth dipped in vinegar; wrap each in a coarse linen cloth (floured) basted closely to the shape of the fish. Put them into a pot with enough salted water to cover them, and boil them gently for half an hour. Drain them well. Take a teacupful of the water in which they were boiled, and put into a saucepan with a tablespoonful of walnut catsup, some anchovy paste or sauce, and the juice of half a lemon. Let this boil up well and add a lump of butter the size of an egg, with a tablespoonful browned flour wet in cold water. Boil up again and serve in the sauce-boat. This makes a brown sauce. You can substitute egg-sauce if you like. Garnish with parsley and nasturtium blossoms.

BROILED MACKEREL. (Fresh.) Clean the mackerel, wash, and wipe dry. Split it open, so that when laid flat the backbone will be in the middle. Sprinkle lightly with salt, and lay on a buttered gridiron over a clear fire, with the inside downward, until it begins to brown; then turn the other. When quite done, lay on a hot dish and butter it plentifully. Turn another hot dish over the lower one, and let it stand two or three minutes before sending to table.

BROILED MACKEREL. (Salt.) Soak overnight in lukewarm water. Change this early in the morning for very cold, and let the fish lie in this until time to cook. Then proceed as with the fresh mackerel.

BOILED HALIBUT. Lay in cold salt and water for an hour. Wipe dry and score the skin in squares. Put into the kettle with cold salted water enough to cover it. It is so firm in texture that you can boil without a cloth if you choose. Let it heat gradually, and boil from half to three-quarters of an hour, in proportion to the size of the piece. Four or live pounds will be enough for most private families. Drain and accompany by egg-sauce--either poured over the fish, or in a sauce-boat.

Save the cold remnants of the fish and what sauce is left until next morning. Pick out as you would cod, mix with an equal quantity of masked potato, moisten with the sauce, or with milk and butter if you have no sauce, put into a skillet, and stir until it is very hot. Do not let it burn. Season,with pepper and salt.

BAKED HALIBUT. Take a piece of halibut weighing five or six pounds, and lay in salt and water for two hours. Wipe dry and score the outer skin. Set in the baking-pan in a tolerably hot oven and bake an hour, basting often with butter and water heated together in a saucepan or tin cup, When a fork will penetrate it easily it is done. It should be of a fine brown. Take the gravy in the dripping-pan-add a little boiling water should there not be enough-stir in a tablespoonful of walnut catsup, a teaspoonful of Worcestershire sauce, the juice of a lemon, and thicker with browned flow previously wet with cold water. Boil up once and put into sauce-boat.

There is no finer preparation, of halibut than this, which is, however, comparatively little known. Those who have eaten it usually prefer it to boiled and broiled. You can use what is left for the same purpose as the fragments of boiled halibut.

HALIBUT STEAK. Wash and wipe the steaks dry. Beat up two or three eggs, and roll out some Boston or other brittle crackers upon the kneading-board until they are fine as dust. Dip each steak into the beaten egg then into the bread crumbs (when yon have salted the fish), and fry in hot fat, lard, or nice dripping.

Or, you can broil the steak upon a buttered gridiron, over a clear lire, first seasoning with salt and pepper. When done, lay in a hot dish, butter well, and cover closely.

DEVILLED HALIBUT. Mince a pound of cold boiled or baked halibut, or the fragments of halibut steak, and mix with it the following dressing: The yolks of three hard-boiled eggs rubbed smooth with the back of a silver spoon, or in a Wedgewood mortar, and when there remain no lumps in it, work into a soft paste with a tablespoonful salad oil. Next beat in two teaspoonfuls white sugar, a teaspoonful made mustard, a pinch of cayenne, teaspoonful salt, one of Worcestershire sauce, a little anchovy paste if you have it, and finally, a little at a time to prevent lumping, a small teacupful of vinegar in which celery-seed have been steeped. It is easy to keep a bottle of this on hand for salads and sauces. Stir all thoroughly into the minced fish, garnish with a chain of the whites of the eggs cut into rings, with a small round slice of pickled beet laid within each link, and you have a piquant and pretty salad for the supper-table.

BOILED SALMON. (Fresh.) Wrap the fish, when you have washed and wiped it. In a clean linen cloth--not too thick--baste it up securely, and put into the fish-kettle. Cover with cold water in which has been melted a handful of salt. Boil slowly, allowing about a quarter of an hour to each pound. When the time is up, rip open a corner of the cloth and test the salmon with a fork. If it penetrate easily, it is done. If not, hastily pin up the cloth and cook a little longer. Skim off the scum as it rises to the top. Have ready in another sauce-pan a pint of cream--or half milk and half cream will do--which has been heated in a vessel set in boiling water; stir into this a large spoonful of butter, a little salt and chopped parsley, and a half-gill of the water in which the fish is boiled. Let it boil up once, stirring all the while- or, what is better, do not remove from the inner vessel. When the fish is done, take it instantly from the kettle, lay it an instant upon a folded cloth to absorb the droppings; transfer with great care, for fear of breaking, to a hot dish, and pour the boiled cream over it, reserving enough to fill a small sauce-boat. Garnish with curled parsley and circular slices of hard-boiled yolks--leaving out the whites of the eggs.

After serving boiled salmon with cream-sauce, you will never be quite content with any other. If you cannot got cream, boil a pint of milk and thicken with arrow-root. It is not so nice, but many will not detect the difference--real cream being a rare commodity in town.

You may pickle what is left, if it is in one piece. Or, devil it, as I have directed you to treat cold halibut. Or mince, mix with mashed potato, milk, and butter, and stir into a sort of stew. Or, once again, mix with mashed potato, milk, butter, and a raw egg well-beaten; make into cakes or balls, and fry in hot lard or dripping. At any rate, let none of it be lost, it being at once one of our most expensive and most delicious fish.

BAKED SALMON. Wash and wipe dry, and rub with pepper and salt. Some add a soupcon of cayenne and powdered mace. Lay the fish upon a grating set over your baking-pan, and roast or bake, basting it freely with butter, and, toward the last, with its own drippings only. Should it brown too fast, cover the top with a sheet of white paper until the whole is cooked. When it is done, transfer to a hot dish and cover closely, and add to the gravy a little hot water thickened with arrow-root, rice, or wheat flour,-wet, of course, first with cold water,-a great spoonful of light tomato sauce, and the juice of a lemon. Boil up and serve in a sauce-boat, or you can serve with cream sauce, made as for boiled salmon. Garnish handsomely with alternate sprigs of parsley and the bleached tops of celery, with ruby bits of firm currant jelly here and there. This is a fine dish for a dinner-party, A glass of sherry improves the first-named sauce.

SALMON STEAKS. Dry well with a cloth, dredge with flour, and lay them upon a well-buttered gridiron, over clear hot coals. Turn with a broad-blade knife slipped beneath, and a flat wire egg-beater above, lest the steak should break. When done to light brown, lay in a hot dish, butter each steak, seasoning with salt and pepper, cover closely, and serve.

PICKLED SALMON. (Fresh.) Having cleaned your fish, cut into pieces of a convenient size to go into the fish-kettle, and boil in salted water as for the table. Drain it very dry, wipe it with a clean cloth, and set it aside until next morning.

Make pickle enough to cover it in the following proportions : 2 quarts vinegar, a dozen blades of mace, dozen white peppers, dozen cloves, two teaspoonfuls made mustard, three table spoonfuls white sugar, and a pint of the water in which the fish was boiled. Let them boil up once hard, that yon may skim the pickle. Should the spices come away with the scum in large quantities, pick them out and return to the kettle. Set the liquor away in on earthenware jar, closely covered to keep in the flavor. Next morning hang it over a brisk fire in a bell-metal kettle (covered), and heat to boiling. Meanwhile, prepare the salmon by cutting into pieces an inch and a half long and half an inch wide. Cut cleanly and regularly with a sharp knife. When they are all ready, and the liquor is on the boil, drop them carefully into the kettle. Let the pickle boil up once to make sure the salmon is heated through. Have ready some air-tight glass jars, such as you use for canning fruit and tomatoes. Take the salmon from the kettle, while it is still on the stove or range, with a wire egg-beater, taking care you do not break the pieces. Drop them rapidly into the jar, packing closely as you go on; fill with the boiling pickle until it overflows, screw on the top, and set away in a dark, cool place. Proceed in the same way with each can until all are full. Salmon thus put up will keep good for years, as I can testify from experience, and will well repay the trouble of preparation. You can vary the seasoning to your taste, adding a shallot or two minced very fine, some celery and small pods of cayenne pepper, which always look well in vinegar.

Be sure that the contents of the kettle are boiling when transferred to the cans that they are not allowed time to cool in the transit, that the elastic on the can is properly adjusted, and the top screwed down tightly, and success is certain. I would call the attention of those who are fond of the potted spiced salmon, sold at a high price in gro cery-stores, to this receipt for making the same luxury at home. It costs less by one-half, is as good, and is always on hand.

PICKLED SALMON. (Salt.) At certain seasons of the year fresh salmon cannot be procured, even by the dwellers in cities, while those who live in the country sometimes do not see it from one year's end to the other. But dried salmon can always be had in any tolerably well-kept grocery, and a very nice relish prepared from it.

Wash the salmon in two or three waters, rubbing it lightly with a coarse cloth to remove the salt-crystals. Then soak over night in tepid water. Exchange this in the morning for ice-cold and let the fish lie in the latter for three hours. Take it out, wipe dry, and cut in strips as directed in the foregoing receipt. Drop these, when all are ready, in a saucepan of boiling water, placed alongside of a kettle of pickle prepared as for fresh salmon. Beside these have your air-tight jars, covers laid in readiness, and when the salmon has boiled five minutes--fairly boiled, not simmered--fish out the pieces with your wire spoon, pack rapidly into your can; fill up with the boiling pickle from the other kettle, and seal instantly. In two days, the pickled salmon will be fit for use, and is scarcely distinguishable from that made of fresh fish. It has the advantage of being always procurable, and of comparative cheapness, and in the country is a valuable stand-by in case of unexpected supper company.

SMOKED SALMON. (Broiled.) Take a piece of raw smoked salmon the size of your hand, or larger in proportion to the number who are to sit down to supper. Wash it in two waters, rubbing off the salt. Lay in a skillet with enough warm-not hot-water to cover it; let it simmer fifteen minutes, and boil five. Remove it, wipe dry, and lay on a buttered gridiron to broil. When it is nicely browned on both sides, transfer to a hot dish ; butter liberally, and pepper to taste. Garnish with hillocks of grated horse-radish interspersed with sprays of fresh or pickled fennel-seed, or with parsley.

Raw smoked salmon is in common use upon the supper-table, cut into smooth strips as long as the middle finger, and rather wider; arranged neatly upon a garnished dish, and eaten with pepper-sauce or some other pungent condiment.

BOILED SHAD. (Fresh.) Clean, wash, and wipe the fish. A roe shad is best for this purpose. Cleanse the roes thoroughly, and having sprinkled both shad and eggs with salt, wrap in separate cloths and put into the fish -kettle, side by side. Cover with salted water, and boil from half an hour to three-quarters, in proportion to the size. Experience is the best rule as to the time. When you have once cooked fish to a turn, note the weight and time and you will be at no loss thereafter. A good rule is to make a pencilled memorandum in the margin of the receipt-book opposite certain receipts.

Serve the shad upon a hot dish, with a boat of drawn butter mingled with chopped egg and parsley, or egg-sauce. Lay the roes about the body of the fish. Garnish with capers and slices of hard-boiled eggs.

BOILED SHAD. (Salt.) In those States where shad are plenty they are salted, and used freely, as are salt mackerel elsewhere. They form ft delightful breakfast-dish, and are welcome on the supper table on winter nights.

Soak the fish six or seven hours in warm water. changing it several times; wipe off ail the salt immerse in ice-cold water. When it has lain in this an hour, put into a fish-kettle with enough fresh water to cover it, and boil from fifteen to twenty minutes, in proportion to the size. Serve in a hot dish with a largo lump of butter spread over the fish.

BROILED SHAD. (Fresh.) Wash, wipe, and split the fish. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and lay it upon a buttered gridiron, inside downward. When the lower side is browned, turn the fish. One of medium size will be done in about twenty minutes. Serve upon a hot dish, and lay a good piece of butter upon the fish.

BROILED SHAD. (Salt.) Soak over night in lukewarm water. Take out in the morning and transfer to ice-cold for half an hour. Wipe very dry, and broil as you do fresh shad.