the varieties (such as salmon) seem
scarcely as savoury. The stranger, however, will find some of his new
fishy acquaintances decided acquisitions, and it takes no long time to
acquire a very decided liking for the bass, the pompano, and the
bluefish, while even the shad is discounted only by his innumerable
bones. The praises of the American oyster should be sung by an abler
and more poetic pen than mine! He may not possess the full oceanic
flavour (coppery, the Americans call it) of our best "natives," but he
is large, and juicy, and cool, and succulent, and fresh, and (above
all) cheap and abundant. The variety of ways in which he is served is
a striking index of the fertile ingenuity of the American mind; and
the man who knows the oyster only on the half-shell or _en escalope_
is a mere culinary suckling compared with him who has been brought
face to face with the bivalve in stews, plain roasts, fancy roasts,
fries, broils, and fricassees, to say nothing of the form "pigs in
blankets," or as parboiled in its own liquor, creamed, sauted, or
pickled.

Wine or beer is much less frequently drunk at meals than in Europe,
though the amount of alcoholic liquor seen on the tables of a hotel
would be a very misleading measure of the amount consumed. The men
have a curious habit of flocking to the bar-room immediately after
dinner to imbibe the stimulant that preference, or custom, or the fear
of their wives has deprived them of during the meal. Wine is generally
poor and dear. The mixed drinks at the bar are fascinating and
probably very indigestible. Their names are not so bizarre as it is
an article of the European's creed to believe. America possesses the
largest brewery in the world, that of Pabst at Milwaukee, producing
more than a million of gallons a year; and there are also large
breweries at St. Louis, Rochester, and many other places. The beer
made resembles the German lager, and is often excellent. Its use is
apparently spreading rapidly from the German Americans to Americans of
other nationalities. The native wine of California is still fighting
against the unfavourable reputation it acquired from the ignorance and
impatience of its early manufacturers. The art of wine-growing,
however, is now followed with more brains, more experience, and more
capital, and the result is in many instances excellent. The _vin
ordinaire_ of California, largely made from the Zinfandel grape, has
been described as a "peasant's win