udiced are the French in favor of the productions of
_la belle France_, that they do not believe in our parsley or our chives
or garlic or shallots; for I know at least one French grocer who imports
them for his customers. On being asked why he brought them from France
to a country where those very things were plentiful, he answered:

"Oh, French herbs are much finer."

Needless to say tarragon is one of the herbs so imported, and can thus
be bought; but, as several New Jersey truck gardeners grow all kinds of
French herbs, they can be got in Washington Market, and most druggists
keep them dried; but for salads, Montpellier butter, and some other
uses, the dried herb would not do, although for flavoring it would
serve; but the far better way is to grow them for yourself, as I have
done. Any large seedsman will supply you with burnet, tarragon, and
borage (very useful for salads, punch, etc.) seeds, and if you live in
the country, have an herb bed; if in town, there are few houses where
there is not ground enough to serve for the purpose; but even in these
few houses one can have a box of earth in the kitchen window, in which
your seeds will flourish.

Parsley is a thing in almost daily request in winter, yet it is very
expensive to buy it constantly for the sake of using the small spray
that often suffices. It is a good plan, therefore, in fall, to get a few
roots, plant them in a pot or box, and they will flourish all winter,
if kept where they will not freeze, and be ready for garnishing at any
minute.

Always, as far as your means allow, have every convenience for cooking.
By having utensils proper for every purpose you save a great deal of
work and much vexation of spirit. Yet it should be no excuse for bad
work that such utensils are not at hand. A willing and intelligent cook
will make the best of what she has. Apropos of this very thing Gouffe
relates that a friend of his, an "artist" of renown, was sent for to the
chateau of a Baron Argenteuil, who had taken a large company with him,
unexpectedly crowding the chateau in every part. He was shown into a
dark passage in which a plank was suspended from the ceiling, and told
this was to be his kitchen. He had to fashion his own utensils, for
there was nothing provided, and his pastry he had to bake in a
frying-pan--besides building two monumental _plats_ on that board--and
prepare a cold _entree_. But he cheerfully set to work to overcome
difficulties, achieved