scant quantity of
it very well. A little cold meat may be added if you have it. ONION
SOUP.--Fry six large onions cut into slices with a quarter of a pound of
butter till they are of a bright brown, then well mix in a tablespoonful
of flour, and pour on them rather more than a quart of water. Stew
gently until the onions are quite tender, season with a spoonful of salt
and a little sugar; stir in quickly a _liaison_ made with the yolks of
two eggs mixed with a gill of milk or cream (do not let it boil
afterwards), put some toast in a tureen, and serve very hot.

PEA SOUP.--Steep some yellow split peas all night, next morning set them
on to boil with two quarts of water to a pint of peas; in the water put
a tiny bit of soda. In another pot put a large carrot, a turnip, an
onion, and a large head of celery, all cut small and covered with water.
When both peas and vegetables are tender, put them together, season with
salt, pepper, and a little sugar, and let them gently stew till thick
enough; then strain through a colander, rubbing the vegetables well, and
return to the pot while you fry some sippets of bread a crisp brown;
then stir into the soup two ounces of butter in which you have rolled a
little flour.

This soup is simply delicious, and the fact of it being _maigre_ will
not be remembered.

POTATO SOUP is another of this good kind, for meat is scarcely required,
so good is it without.

Boil some potatoes, then rub them through a colander into two quarts of
hot milk (skimmed does quite well); have some fine-chopped parsley and
onion, add both with salt and pepper, stew three quarters of an hour;
then stir in a large piece of butter, and beat two eggs with a little
cold milk, stir in quickly, and serve with fried bread. There should be
potatoes enough to make the soup as thick as cream. Do not be
prejudiced against a dish because there is no meat in it, and you think
it cannot be nourishing. This chapter is not written for those with whom
meat, or money, is plentiful; and if it be true that man is nourished
"not by what he eats, but by what he assimilates," and, according to an
American medical authority, "what is eaten with distaste is not
assimilated" (Dr. Hall), it follows that an enjoyable dinner, even
without meat, will be more nourishing than one forced down because it
lacks savor; that potato soup will be more nourishing than potatoes and
butter, with a cup of milk to drink, because more enjoyable. Yet it