as for trifle No. 1489.

_Mode_.--Mix all the ingredients together, put the syllabub into
glasses, and over the top of them heap a little whipped cream, made in
the same manner as for trifle No. 1489. Solid syllabub is made by
whisking or milling the mixture to a stiff froth, and putting it in the
glasses, without the whipped cream at the top.

_Average cost_, 1s. 8d.

_Sufficient_ to fill 8 or 9 glasses.

_Seasonable_ at any time.

THE CURE'S OMELET.

"Every one knows," says Brillat Savarin, in his "Physiology of Taste,"
"that for twenty years Madame Recamier was the most beautiful woman in
Paris. It is also well known that she was exceedingly charitable, and
took a great interest in every benevolent work. Wishing to consult the
Cure of ---- respecting the working of an institution, she went to his
house at five o'clock in the afternoon, and was much astonished at
finding him already at his dinner-table.

"Madame Recamier wished to retire, but the Cure would not hear of it. A
neat white cloth covered the table; some good old wine sparkled in a
crystal decanter; the porcelain was of the best; the plates had heaters
of boiling water beneath them; a neatly-costumed maid-servant was in
attendance. The repast was a compromise between frugality and luxury.
The crawfish-soup had just been removed, and there was on the table a
salmon-trout, an omelet, and a salad.

"'My dinner will tell you,' said the worthy Cure, with a smile, 'that it
is fast-day, according to our Church's regulations.' Madame Recamier and
her host attacked the trout, the sauce served with which betrayed a
skilful hand, the countenance of the Cure the while showing
satisfaction.

"And now they fell upon the omelet, which was round, sufficiently thick,
and cooked, so to speak, to a hair's-breadth.

"As the spoon entered the omelet, a thick rich juice issued from it,
pleasant to the eye as well as to the smell; the dish became full of it;
and our fair friend owns that, between the perfume and the sight, it
made her mouth water.

"'It is an _omelette au thon_' (that is to say, a tunny omelet), said
the Cure, noticing, with the greatest delight, the emotion of Madame
Recamier, 'and few people taste it without lavishing praises on it.'

"'It surprises me not at all,' returned the beauty; 'never has so
enticing an omelet met my gaze at any of our lay tables.'

"'My cook understands them well, I think.'

"'Yes,' added Madame, 'I never ate anyth