my wife asked her for her
recommendations.

Ollie said that her face was her only recommendation, but that she was
out late the night before and broke her recommendation just above the
chin.

Anyway, my wife engaged her, because what good is a hearty appetite
when the kitchen is empty.

Ollie said that she was a first-class cook, but when we dared her to
prove it she forgot my wife was a lady and threw the coal-scuttle at
her.

A day or two after Ollie arrived I decided to find out what merit there
is in a vegetarian diet.

"All right," I said to the cook, after the last plate of hash with all
its fond memories had disappeared, "this house is going on a diet for a
few days, and henceforth we are all vegetarians, including the dog.
Please govern yourself accordingly."

Ollie smiled Swedefully and whispered that vegetarianisms was where she
lived.

Ollie said she could cook vegetables so artistically that the palate
would believe them to be _filet Mignon_, with Pommery sauce, and then
she started in to fool the Beef Trust and put all the butchers out of
business.

Dinner time came and we were all expectancy.

The first course was mashed potatoes, which we just dabbled with
gingerly.

The second course was potato chips, which we nibbled slightly while we
looked eagerly at the butler's pantry.

The next course was French fried potatoes with some shoestring potatoes
on the side, and I began to get nervous.

This was followed by a dish of German fried potatoes, some hash-browned
potatoes and some potato _saute_, whereupon my appetite got up and left
the room.

The next course was plain boiled potatoes with the jackets on, and
baked potatoes with the jackets open at the throat, and then some
roasted potatoes with a peek-a-boo waist effect, cut on the bias.

I was beginning to see the delights of being a vegetarian and at the
same time I could feel myself fixing my fingers to choke Ollie.

The next course was a large plate of potato salad, and then I fainted.

When I got back Ollie was standing near the table with a sweet smile on
each side of her face waiting for the applause of those present.

"Have you nothing else?" I inquired, hungrily.

"Oh, yes!" said Ollie. "I have some potato pudding for desert."

When I got through swearing Ollie was under the stove, my wife was
under the table, the dog was under the bed, and I was under the
influence of liquor.

No more vegetarianism in mine.

Hereafter