are. A considerable section of English middle-class women at the
present day are allowed by the men, who should guide them so as to
make them honourable and useful members of the community, to grow up
in complete ignorance of the essential parts of the art of cookery.
This was not the case a hundred years ago. Now a large proportion of
them have been led by bad example and foolish notions to give up such
matters to "the servants," whether they are able to afford competent
servants or even to judge of the competence of a servant or not. Many
of these "mistresses" now devote themselves exclusively to "dress,"
"amusements," "charity," "politics," and dabbling inconsequently in
various crazes. They are not to blame. It is the men who are to blame
who deliberately neglect to give to their womenkind a training and
education which shall make them real mistresses of household arts and
business, so that they may be thus filled with the happy conviction
(which is the one thing they most desire and most often cannot gain)
that they are of real use--are really wanted--in the world.

In conclusion, let me tell of a great German sports-man, Major von
Wissman, Governor of German East Africa, now no more, who came to see
me at the Museum nine years ago. It was his first visit to London, and
I took him to lunch at a famous grill-room. Happily, though roasting
is dying out, the art of grilling still survives in this country, but
nowhere else in Europe. Von Wissman said--"Can I have beer where we
are going?" "Yes, certainly," I said. "German beer?" he asked. "No," I
replied. "Something much better." When we were seated, I ordered a
pint tankard of Reid's London stout for my friend. It was in perfect
condition. He put his lips to it in doubt, but did not remove them
until, with reverential drooping of the eyelids, he had emptied the
tankard. "The very finest beer I have ever swallowed," he said. "What
in the name of goodness is it?" I told him, and ordered him more. Soon
a perfectly grilled chop and a large, clean, floury potato were before
him. He proceeded to eat, and was really and unaffectedly astonished.
"But this is marvellous," he said, "wonderful! enchanting! I have
never really tasted meat before in my life. Reitzend! Colossal!" He
had a steak to follow, and I was pleased to have been able to show him
something which I knew (by experience of that city) they could not
produce in Berlin. Three days later I went over to the same hos