er pudding, eh? with _shalot a discretion_. How's that for
high? Let the Small Incomer get some dariole tins, mushrooms, chives,
rabbits, tripe, onions, oil, ducks, eggs, and with _egg kromeskies_
he'll dine like a millionnaire, and be able to appreciate a real
_epigram_ of Lamb (not CHARLES) and Peas. Don't let the Man with a
Small Income be afraid of trying _Un Fritot de Cervelle de Veau_,
simply because of the name, which might do honour to the _menu_ of
a LUCULLUS. "Blanch the Brains" for this dish--delicious!--"and fry
till a nice golden colour." Beautiful! Nice golden colour like dear
BLANCHE's hair: only often that's a BLANCHE without brains. And now
your attention, my Small Incomer, to _Eggs a la Bonne Femme_. This
work ought to be arranged as a catechism: in fact all cookery books,
all receipt books, should be in the form of Question and Answer.

_Question_.--Now, Sir, how would you do _Eggs a la Bonne Femme?_

Perhaps this query might be preceded by general information as to
who the particular "_bonne femme_" (for she must have been a very
particular _bonne femme_) was to whom so many dishes are dedicated.
[In the Scotch McCookery books, _Broth o' the gude-wife_ would be a
national name.]

_Answer_.--To make _Eggs a la Bonne Femme_, Mrs. DE SALIS says, "Get
as many eggs as there are guests (they should all be the same size)--"
Now this is a difficulty. It is not an easy matter to assemble round
your table a party of guests "all the same size:" still more difficult
is it to get together a lot of eggs all the same size as the guests.
But, when this has been got over, read the remainder at p. 55, and
then, as _Squeers's_ pupils used to have to do, go and reduce the
teaching to practice.

The receipt for _Potatoes a la Lyonnaise_ begins with, "Mince an
onion, and fry it in hot butter"--O rare! Why do more? Who wants
potatoes after this? And, when you've had quite enough of it, smoke
a pipe, drink a glass of whiskey-and-water, go to an evening party,
and then, if you won't be one of the most remarkable advertisements
for _cette bonne femme_ Madame DE SALIS, why I don't live in Baronion
Halls, and my name's no longer

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

P.S.--So many persons have sent in touching requests to the Baron only
to notice their books with one little word, that his library table
groans under their weight. To about a hundred of them that one little
word might be "Bosh!"--but even then they'd be pleased.