nt and find out what merit
there is in a vegetarian menu?

The ayes have it--send for the Duchess of Dishwater.

Enter the Duchess, so proud and haughty, with a rolling pin in one hand
and a guide to the city of New York in the other. During her idle
moments she studied the guide. Even now, and only three weeks from Ellis
Island, she knew the city so well that she could go from one situation
to another with her eyes closed.

"Ollie," said friend wife, "do you know how to cook vegetables in an
appetizing manner?"

[Illustration]

"Of course," answered Ollie, her lips curling disdainfully.

Then I chipped in with, "Very well, Ollie; the members of this household
are vegetarians, for the time being. All of us vegetarians, including
the dog, so please govern yourself accordingly."

Ollie smiled in a broad Hungarian manner and whispered that
vegetarianisms was where she lived.

She confided to us that she could cook vegetables so artistically that
the palate would believe them to be _filet mignon_, with champagne
sauce.

Then she shook the rolling pin at a picture of friend wife's
grandfather, and started in to fool the Beef Trust and put all the
butchers out of business.

Dinner time came and we were all expectancy.

The first course was potato soup. Filling but not fascinating.

The second course was potato chips, which we nibbled slightly while we
looked eagerly at the butler's pantry.

The next course was French fried potatoes with some shoestring potatoes
on the side, and I began to get nervous.

This was followed by a dish of German fried potatoes, some hash-browned
potatoes and some potato _saute_, whereupon my appetite got up and left
the room.

The next course was plain boiled potatoes with the jackets on, and baked
potatoes with the jackets open at the throat, and then some roasted
potatoes with Bolero jackets.

I was beginning to see that a man must have in his veins the blood of
martyrs and of heroes to be a vegetarian and at the same time I could
feel myself fixing my fingers to choke Ollie.

The next course was a large plate of potato salad, and then I fainted.

When I got back Ollie was standing near the table with a sweet smile on
each side of her face, waiting for the applause of those present.

"Have you anything else?" I inquired hungrily.

"Oh, yes!" said Ollie. "I have some potato pudding for dessert."

When I got through swearing Ollie was under the stove, my wife was
under t