Choose a lively one—not too large, lest he should be tough. Put a
handful of salt into a pot of boiling water, and having tied the claws
together, if your fish merchant has not already skewered them, plunge
him into the prepared bath. He will be restive under this vigorous
hydropathic treatment; but allay your tortured sympathies by the
reflection that he is a cold-blooded animal, destitute of imagination,
and that pain, according to some philosophers, exists only in the
imagination. However this may be, his suffering will be short-lived.
Boil from half an hour to an hour, as his size demands. When done,
draw out the scarlet innocent, and lay him, face downward, in a sieve
to dry. When cold, split open the body and tail, and crack the claws
to extract the meat, throwing away the “lady fingers” and the head.
Lobsters are seldom served without dressing, upon private tables, as
few persons care to take the trouble of preparing their own salad after
taking their seats at the board.