OUR OPPORTUNITIES.
"As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all."
--Gal. vi. 10.
Now that the days are shortening and the weather dull, those of us who
took holiday during the summer and early autumn will once more gather
round the fireside in the twilight, and find pleasure in looking back
upon the happy time we spent in lovely inland places or by the sea.
Our winter gatherings are brightened by such retrospections, and as
we talk we seem to see again the waves glittering in the sunlight, or
to hear their roar as they break angrily on the beach, more beautiful
in storm than in calm. We tell of new experiences and impressions, of
minds enriched, and of bodily strength renewed by change of scene and
occupation, or it may be by rest and quiet surroundings.
These words apply specially to those amongst you, my dear girl friends
and fortunate holiday makers, who were able to leave ordinary cares and
anxieties behind you, and enjoy to the full the new beauties amid which
you found yourselves.
To take holiday, without need for care about ways and means, and
possessing a good share of health and strength to begin with, would
seem to most of us the perfection of enjoyment. Yet I am by no means
sure that we should judge rightly. Can you not well imagine that the
rare holiday, obtained at the cost of long saving and even self-denial,
may have brought to some an intensity of enjoyment unknown to those
who have only to will in order to obtain any indulgence they desire.
If each could give her personal experience this evening, what varied
stories should we hear. Some, who longed for and much needed a holiday,
would tell that they had been kept at home and at work all through the
hot days by poverty or the sickness of one they loved and could not
bear to leave.
Others, who left home hoping for renewed health, may have returned
disappointed. Some may have expected only enjoyment, and have found
pain and trouble as their constant companions. To those amongst you who
have had all and even more than you hoped for, let me say, "Look back
upon your happy experiences with heartfelt thankfulness to the Giver of
all good, and resolve that, by the help of the Holy Spirit, you will
use your increased knowledge and strength in His service and for your
neighbour's good."
If any of you have spent money lavishly upon yourselves, or upon those
who did not need your gifts, think, before another holiday season comes
round, of some of those who are poor and longing for what you could so
easily give them. You, who can take holiday and have change when you
wish, might make some of your poorer sisters very happy by giving them
a taste of what you can always enjoy even to repletion. Try to diffuse
blessings by sparing something out of your abundance, and your own
enjoyment will be doubled, as well as your sense of wealth, in the very
act of imparting. I am speaking in time--am I not, dear girls? I think
I hear some of you say, "When the days are lengthening again it will be
time enough to talk of the next summer holidays."
It may be so with those who can give out of their abundance, but by far
the greater number of us could only render such help by saving a little
at a time the year round. In all earnestness, but leaving the method to
yourselves, I ask such of you as are able to give in the future to some
poor toiler a taste of the happiness you can now look back upon from
the home fireside. If, in any neighbourhood, a few of you, my dear girl
friends, will combine for this purpose, all your own pleasures will be
increased, and your memories enriched by so doing.
To those amongst you who have this year been saddened by
disappointment, I say, "Look forward hopefully, asking the while that
the power to do this may be given you. Try not to look back upon the
dark days, or to dwell mentally on what cannot be undone."
Several years ago, I was staying in a charming home, from the different
sides of which we could look on scenery of very opposite kinds. The
house stood just beyond what is called "The Black Country," and looking
into a valley in one direction, we could see the glare of the smelting
furnaces, and the smoke rising from the coal-pit banks. From these
indications we knew that both aboveground and below it in the mines
work never ceased.
If we looked from the other side, we saw a lovely range of beautifully
wooded hills in the distance, and below them all the fair features
of an English landscape. If we had kept our eyes fixed on the valley
behind us, we should have seen only blackness and comparative
desolation, whilst the sense of ceaseless toil would have been ever
present to us.
So, dear disappointed ones, I pray you turn your backs on the
inevitable, and, though there may be no fair landscape within sight,
you can always look heavenward with your mind's eye, even whilst your
hands are busy, and, it may be, your spirit is heavy within you.
Friends may be forgetful. No human message of cheer or comfort may
reach you, or bit of much needed help be in sight, but still there are
messages which you can claim, and consolations meant expressly for you,
which are better than the best which mortal lips can utter, for they
come from Him Who cannot lie. You are invited to cast your care upon
God, for "He careth for you." This one sweet assurance is like the fair
landscape on which we can turn the eye of faith, and forget the gloomy
realities which lie behind us.
But God works by human instrumentality, and it is for those whom He has
helped with the power to exercise the precious privilege of brightening
the lives of others. Let your givings be in accordance not only with
your own means, but with the needs of those whom you help.
I daresay you have often noticed the number and costliness of the gifts
bestowed upon those who have already much of this world's wealth. You
have heard such words as these when a friend's birthday or some other
festive occasion called for special remembrance: "I could not give a
poor present. I felt that I must give something really handsome, or I
should have been ashamed of my gift among so many beautiful things."
Oh! it is sad to think that our givings are influenced so much more by
the thought of how they will impress our neighbours, and how the gifts
will look in comparison with theirs.
There is a verse in the Book of Proverbs which I have seldom heard
quoted, but which bears upon what I have said. "He that oppresseth the
poor to increase his riches, and he that giveth to the rich, shall
surely come to want." In beautiful contrast are the words also from the
Book of Proverbs, "He that giveth unto the poor shall not lack" and "He
that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he
hath given will He pay him again."
So, dear ones who have enough and to spare, I ask you to make the Lord
your debtor--precious thought!--by devising plans for the benefit of
your poorer sisters, and be sure of this--your paymaster will not fail
you. Your reward will not come to you in gold and silver, but it will
satisfy you here, and you will reap an eternal harvest in return for
every hour of happiness purchased for others by willing self-sacrifice
on your part. I trust that by your efforts many hearts will be
gladdened and bodies strengthened, through what we have talked about
to-night, in the twilight side by side.
Now I want to ask you what precious opportunities you had, and whether
you used or wasted them, during your summer holidays? When we last
met, I quoted an expression I had heard from the pulpit, and which
had impressed me deeply. "We should be misers in the use of time and
opportunity." We talked at some length on one of these precious trusts,
but little was said about the second.
I am sure you will feel with me that we cannot be amidst new scenes
and brought into contact with fresh people, and fail to have new
opportunities of speaking kind words, giving little messages of
comfort, and showing, though it may be only by trifling actions,
consideration for others. In order to take advantage of such openings
we must not be self-absorbed. We must be on the look-out for
opportunities, or we may miss them.
It happens, not infrequently, that a holiday-time is regarded as a
season of pure self-indulgence. We have worked hard for our holiday,
or we can afford to have whatever we desire. So we decide to fill our
daily cup of enjoyment to the brim. We care little what trouble we give
by our untidy habits to the tired workers who serve in the houses which
are our temporary homes. We leave orderly ways and punctuality behind
us, and rather enjoy the idea of having escaped from home rule in every
shape, saying to ourselves, "It is holiday-time. Surely we may follow
our own inclinations."
We laugh perhaps over nearly empty purses when packing-up day comes,
and are apt to wonder where the money has gone. If we ask ourselves
the questions, "How much has been devoted to others? What have I given
towards the expenses of the church I have attended during my stay in
this place?" I fear a blush of shame would often come to the owner of
that purse whose contents have been so carelessly scattered.
I have known, and I still know, dear friends both young and old
who, when going for a holiday, put aside a weekly sum in accordance
with their means to be spent in good doing as opportunities present
themselves. This is their thank-offering to God for their own bright
holiday. Those who have pinched and saved and been obliged to calculate
every penny before leaving home, and who, whilst absent, have "to
turn a penny both sides up before spending it," as I heard a poor
woman remark, cannot spare coin from their purses. But opportunities
come, nevertheless. The possessor of a comfortable seat on shore or
promenade, or beneath a sheltering tree, may give place to a wan-faced
mother, weary with carrying her baby, and looking longingly but vainly
for an empty place whereon to rest.
Ailing people are often eager to speak of the sad time of sickness they
have passed through, and it is no small comfort to them if a stranger,
resting on the same bench, will listen patiently, sympathise with their
weakness and encourage their budding hopefulness by cheering words.
What opportunities these incidental meetings give for saying something
about the Great Physician of souls; of God's love in Christ; of our
daily needs and dependence upon God, and His willingness to supply all
our needs.
If the help of a girl's strong arm can aid age and weakness in the
journey from the shore to the humble lodging, why should any young
servant of Christ wait to compare her pretty summer dress with the
faded black--the badge of poverty and widowhood--worn by the feeble,
old body she would like to help? Should we not try to think how God
regards even the smallest labour of love undertaken for our weak
neighbour, rather than of what our fashionable friend will say if she
sees us in such lowly company?
It needs a very grateful and a very loving nature to be constantly on
the look-out, so as to lose no opportunity of good doing. The heart
must be full of gratitude to God for mercies bestowed, and of tender
consideration towards every human sister and brother, for His dear sake.
Many years ago, I was honoured by the friendship of a good man who
possessed such a nature as I have described. In whatever place or
company he might find himself--and more especially if he had been
unexpectedly brought into it--his first thought would be, "I am not
here for nothing;" his first question, "What work has God for me to do
in this place?"
Stranded on one occasion at a country railway station through the
lateness of a train which caused him to miss another, he was for the
moment inclined to chafe at the delay. Time was very precious to him
that day, and two hours of waiting would probably hinder him from
saying farewell to a son about to start on a long voyage. But the
habits of submission to the inevitable, and of looking around him for
some opportunity of doing his Master's will and serving his neighbour,
asserted themselves. A few minutes later, a young man, a passenger
delayed by the same cause as he was, sat down beside him, and, after
remarking, "You and I are in the same boat, I suppose, sir," began to
find fault with the bad railway arrangements, and to threaten all sorts
of things against the Company--actions for damages, and so on.
My friend could hardly help smiling at his neighbour's impetuosity,
but he listened patiently, and at length the young man cooled down and
laughed also.
"I daresay this seems foolish talk," he added; "and it is a great deal
easier to threaten than to do, when it is a question of taking the
law against a big railway Company; but this delay is a serious matter
to me, as you would say, if you knew all about my business. You are a
clergyman, I see. I am the son of one. May I----"
The young man paused, and my friend, thinking to himself, "I am not
delayed for nothing," finished the question, or rather answered it by
saying, "You may look on me as your father's representative, if you
will, or as a friend to whom you may speak freely."
I am not going to tell you what followed. The story would be too long
in detail, but I may say this much. To the end of his days my friend
thanked God for that delay at the railway station, and the young man
had still greater cause to do so. He was about to take a rash step,
which would have caused sorrow to those who loved him and spoiled his
own career; but, won by the fatherly manner of the old minister of God,
he was induced to confide in him, and the wise advice he received set
him thinking. Thought was followed by repentance, and this by change
of purpose. Instead of continuing his journey, he took the homeward
train, and before my friend resumed his, the two had parted with a warm
hand-clasp and a promise of letters to follow.
Years after, when the old pastor told the story, he said, "I felt sure
that I was not stranded at that railway station for nothing, but that
there must be some chance of usefulness, some work that my Master meant
me to do. The chapters of that young man's life story that have been
written since are very different from what they might have been but for
that opportune delay which gave him time to pause and think. Thank God!
His father never knew how near the lad was to life wreckage, and to-day
he is proud of the son who is the staff and comfort of his age.
"Did I see my own son before he sailed? you ask. No--I was too late,
but the telegraph took him my farewell and blessing, and we have had
many happy meetings and hopeful partings since then."
My dear old friend's earthly labours have long been ended; but, as I
think of him, I seem to see his face shining with glad thankfulness,
as he recalled this opportunity of usefulness given him by God and
so happily utilised, though the delay in another sense cost him a
disappointment.
Had my friend spent the time in grumbling at the delay, instead of
thinking how it could be turned to good account, how different would
have been the result! Or, if he had kept sullenly aloof, or answered
his young neighbour's remark curtly, thus repelling his half-offer
of confidence, the current of a life would have set in the wrong
direction, and the chances of doing and receiving good would have been
lost for ever.
Opportunity comes under so many forms, means so much, and is so often
lost.
We live, it may be, near places of beauty and interest. Because we are
near, we think we can visit them at any time, but we never see them at
all. We have opportunities of obtaining useful information, of gaining
valuable experiences and increasing our stores of knowledge. We put off
availing ourselves of them until some unknown future time, which never
comes.
But the time does come to most of us when we want just the knowledge
or experience that we might have had if we had utilised past
opportunities, and then, we either gain it at much greater cost of time
and trouble, or we suffer for the want of it, to say nothing of the
additional pang of self-reproach which comes with the need.
Money frittered away in vanity and folly means the loss of chances
for making others happy and lifting the burdens from overweighted
shoulders. Lost opportunities for giving pleasure to those we love are
brought home to us with a terrible sting afterwards.
Do we ever lose a relative or beloved friend without feeling our
sorrow intensified by the thought of some little wish neglected, some
opportunity for giving pleasure lost?
It is generally the little ones that are missed, when they concern
those we dearly love. Great opportunities are seldom ignored. But when
it is too late and we feel, oh, so sadly, that we might have availed
ourselves of the lesser ones also, these, however trifling, assume an
importance not realised until, with the sense of omission, comes the
thought that they are lost for ever.
I should feel guilty were I to close our talk to-night without
reminding you, dear girl friends and companions, of the supreme
importance of some opportunities which you may not have valued, because
they are always open to you; I mean the blessed privilege of coming to
God as your Father and unchanging Friend; a Father whom you have often
disobeyed and neglected--even forgotten, but who yet loves you with
an everlasting love, loves you so much that He did not spare His own
beloved Son, "but delivered Him up for us all," that through His death
eternal life might be purchased and bestowed--a free gift on you and me.
May our Father bestow His Holy Spirit upon us all, so that, seeing
our sinfulness and need, we may go to His footstool pleading Christ's
sacrifice, and thus obtain pardon, joy and peace in believing.
(_To be continued._)
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
MEDICAL.
WAITING IN HOPE.--Freckles are undoubtedly due to the sun. They are
not caused by _heat_ but by _light_. There is always a certain amount
of pigment in the skin, and under the influence of strong light this
pigment increases greatly in quantity, and becomes gathered together
in small patches. These patches are freckles. Where the light of the
sun is more intense than it is in our climate, the patches of pigment
coalesce, and the face and other exposed parts of the body become
uniformly discoloured. Constant exposure to the intense light of the
tropical sun, through many generations, has produced the black or
brown skin of the coloured races. Since the light rays which cause
freckles cannot pass through substances coloured red, persons inclined
to freckles should always wear a red veil, or carry a red parasol.
Remaining in a darkened room for an hour or so after exposure to the
sun will often prevent the face from becoming freckled. The best
preparations to apply to the face for the removal of freckles are
glycerine and rose-water, glycerine and lime-water, and toilet vinegar.
Peroxide of hydrogen bleaches the pigments of the skin, but it is
rarely necessary to resort to it for the removal of freckles, unless
all other methods fail.
CURIOUS ENQUIRER.--This is something new to us! That photographic
films should be "splendid to put on the nose to remove red spots,
or any redness," we have certainly never before heard, nor could we
have guessed this curious and unexpected development of photography.
Films consist of albumen, gelatine, or collodion, impregnated with an
emulsion of an insoluble salt of silver, and how any of these could
influence face "decorations" due to indigestion we cannot tell. Perhaps
the silver might turn the spots black, but what other benefits the
films could produce we cannot conceive.
W. P. W.--Your case is easy to understand, if it is true that you have
heart disease. What do you eat, and how do you eat it? Do you swallow
down a cup of tea and a bite of something for breakfast before rushing
off to catch your train? Do you snatch a hasty lunch at any hour at
which you are at leisure? or do you forego lunch altogether, and take
nothing between breakfast and dinner? If you are guilty of any of
these acts of indiscretion, you must expect to suffer. Your unpleasant
symptoms are probably in the main due to errors of diet. You must be
very careful about your feeding; never take any indigestible food;
never eat in a hurry, and never, not if a whole year's income depends
upon it, must you run off directly after a meal to catch a train. You
should eat slowly; little at a time and often, and take at least four
meals a day. You should take tea in great moderation, and you should
carefully guard against constipation from any cause.
E. T.--What is the size of the spot on your chin? If it is small, it
is a "spider nævus," and can be readily removed by touching its centre
with a red-hot needle. Of course this must be done by a surgeon. No
other form of treatment is of any avail. If the spot is larger than a
split pea, it can hardly be removed in this way, but it will probably
be amenable to some other form of surgical procedure. In any case we
advise you to go to a surgeon about it, and not to try to meddle with
it yourself, for you can do no good by external application.
MIZPAH.--We cannot advertise any special soap in this column. All soap
used for the skin should be hard, opaque or semi-opaque, and either
scented or medicated with carbolic acid, tar, etc. Never use any patent
soap, and above all, never use arsenical soap.
STUDY AND STUDIO.
AJAX.--It is delightful and rare for us to be able to offer musical
commendation twice consecutively. Your compositions are good enough
for us to urge you, in reply to your question, at once to take harmony
lessons. In spite of the merit of the chants, there are blemishes in
them--consecutive fifths, etc.--which good teaching would enable you
to avoid. We particularly like the close of the "Kyrie"; it is very
musical. You should work hard, and may hope to succeed.
TAM O' SHANTER.--1. Much depends on individual taste and preference
in the selection of a subject to study alone. If you are fond of
languages, we should advise you to take up Italian, and get Dr.
Lemmi's Italian Grammar. You might with advantage join the National
Home Reading Union. Address the Secretary, Surrey House, Victoria
Embankment, London.--2. Your friend could certainly study French alone;
if she could get a little help with the pronunciation, it would be
better. We should recommend her to procure Havet's French Course.
OUR OPEN LETTER BOX.
M. E. J. (Malvern) kindly sent us some information about an extract
we have repeatedly tried to trace. In consequence of her suggestion,
we wrote to Messrs. Bemrose & Sons, 23, Old Bailey, E.C., who have
forwarded us a small pink card headed "Resolve." On one side are the
words:
"I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore
that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to a human being, or any
word that I can speak for Jesus--let me do it _now_. Let me not neglect
or defer it, for I shall not pass this way again."
On the reverse side of the card we read:
"This Resolve was written by a New York lady, much impressed with the
thought of the uncertainty of life. Not many days after, she was at
a meeting in Madison Square Gardens, where she had distributed some
printed leaflets with the Resolve, when the hall roof fell in and she
was one of those killed by its fall."
The sentence has been frequently referred, by our correspondents, to
Marcus Aurelius. We give the information just as we have received it.
The cards, we may add, are 5d. per dozen, post free.
M. H. COUPLAND sends Lilian the verse inquired for in "The Lesson of
the Water Mill," by Sarah Doudney. LAIRA, A. S., ACACIA, A SCHOOLGIRL,
point out that the verse Lilian quotes is the fourth, not the last. The
last verse runs as follows:
"Oh, the wasted hours of life
That have drifted by!
Oh, the good that might have been!
Lost without a sigh.
Loved ones that we might have saved,
Maybe, by a word;
Thoughts conceived, but never penned,
Perishing, unheard.
Take the proverb to thine heart,
Take, and hold it fast:--
'The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past.'"
The whole poem may be obtained for 1s. a hundred, from Andrew
Stevenson, Stationer, Mound, Edinburgh; also as a "Stirling Leaflet,
No. 52," from Peter Drummond, Stirling; also in the _Practical
Elocutionist_, published by Blackie & Son. If Lilian will send her name
and address to Mrs. Pawlby, 7, Maida Vale Terrace, Mutley, Plymouth,
she will receive a copy.
MISCELLANEOUS.
ANXIOUS.--With reference to pensions accruing to the widows of
officers, that of a captain is £50 per annum, and £12 to each child
yearly; but should death have resulted from exposure, privation or
fatigue, incident to active duty in the field, fifty per cent. more is
allowed. If from wounds received in action, and within twelve months
after having been invalided, his widow would receive twice the ordinary
pension. But there are certain conditions to be considered.
ISABEL.--As much may be said in favour of one place you name as
another. In the Isle of Wight, Ventnor is much esteemed. In the south
of England, Bournemouth, Torquay, and Penzance. In the Channel Islands,
the south aspects and shore of Guernsey and Jersey; and the Island of
Sark for asthma. We know of no "papers nor magazines" that give the
local information you require. But there are little guides, as well as
local papers, respecting each place, in which you could find addresses
and advertisements as to situations for persons needing employment.
PIN-BASKET.--1. The Mosaic-work made of broken china is called
"crazy-china," of which two illustrations were given in vol. xvi., page
636. The weekly number (doubtless to be had at our office) was for July
6th, 1895.--2. The German-speaking men of Europe wear wedding-rings. We
have not observed whether in other countries the practice obtains as a
rule of national observance.
PETRUCHIO'S KATE.--We could not answer you in a few sentences, so
must recommend you to procure a book on such games, viz., Brand's
_Observations on Popular Antiquities_ (Chatto & Windus), see pages
205-215.
BROWN BEE.--If you failed to get that description of chocolate at the
Junior Army & Navy Stores, and at so many shops, we recommend her to
visit some of the large confectioners and grocers' stores in the City.
M. S. C.--We do not know to which you refer, but a "thunder-bolt"
is a shaft of lightning, or stream of electricity passing from the
thunder-cloud to the earth. In geology it means a belemnite or meteoric
stone, or fire-ball, which sometimes falls to the earth; an aërolite,
at times found of enormous size; _aer_ signifies "air," and _athos_ a
stone. It is a combination of metal and stone. Fire-balls, (_bolides_)
and meteors are explosive, the meteors appearing during the day, and
the fire-balls at night. Iron is specially present, but the metals
appear to be an alloy.
M. A. D.--We do not think you read our answers, or you would not ask a
question already so often answered. There is no rule for the wearing of
a ring on any special finger, excepting only the wedding-ring. But the
third finger of the left hand is not kept exclusively for that.
MILDRED.--Your writing is too large and coarse-looking. Slope it a
little from left to right, and reverse the plan in reference to the
light and heavy strokes, the downwards heavy, the upwards light. It
will be more graceful and artistic.
DEAR MR. EDITOR,--I have begun making a collection of photos of
bridges, and am very anxious to get some from everywhere (except
Australia), especially Norway and Russia. Would some of your girls
kindly lend a hand? and in return, I could send, not bridges, as I
live in the bush, but hornets, beetles, or stamps. The bridges must be
_named_, _unmounted_, and _not more than 8×6 inches_, as I put them in
a book.
Yours faithfully,
AUNT SCIS.
Mrs. Geo. Barnard, Coomooboolaroo, Duaringa, Rockhampton, Queensland.
[Illustration: THINGS IN SEASON, IN MARKET AND KITCHEN.
DECEMBER.]
One glance round the markets and shops in any week of December tells
us that Christmas is the prominent thought in the minds of all who
have anything to sell, and that royal bird, the turkey, is very much
_en evidence_. But we cannot eat turkey all the weeks of December, and
every day is not Christmas Day. Let us, therefore, take a look round
with the object of seeing what else there is that is peculiar to the
month, and that will help us in compiling our daily menus, as well as
to make variety on extra occasions.
Among fish we have the dory--supposed by some to be the fish blessed
by our Lord in the miraculous feeding of the five thousand. It is an
unsightly fish, but most excellent for flavour and delicacy, very much
resembling turbot, and it should be boiled and served the same as the
latter.
Turbot is also in excellent condition now, so is cod; then we have
ling, a cheap and nourishing fish, thought much of by dwellers on the
northern coasts, and we have smaller fish in abundance.
All meat is, of course, in prime condition--almost too prime for some
tastes--and we may even indulge in an occasional little roast pork, for
if ever pork may be said to be wholesome it is now. Hams and pickled
tongues make a feature in the shops now, also pork pies of every
imaginable size, weight and kind. The wise and happy are they who can
cure their own hams, pickle their own tongues, make their own sausages
and bake their own pies--these have not to be taken on trust.
The list of vegetables and fruits is a long one; what we have not in
a fresh state we can purchase dried, and there is no lack of variety
either way.
Brocoli, savoys, celery, seakale and Scotch kale are all at their best;
a touch of frost improves their flavour, but the later severe frosts of
January are apt to kill them off entirely. We should make plentiful use
of these now, for there will come a time later on when green food will
be scarce, and we can then bring out our dishes of carrots, parsnips
and the like.
As long as the supply of English apples and pears lasts we should have
them frequently, we can have recourse to the cheaper foreign kinds when
our own are all gone. Almonds, walnuts, filberts, hazel nuts, and many
more, are very plentiful, and this shows us they are the natural food
of winter time.
It might be well this month to devote one of our menus to such dishes
as are Christmas-like in character, and to make the other festive
without being suggestive of this special feast at all.
No. 1. (CHRISTMAS MENU.)
Clear Gravy Soup.
Boiled Turbot, or Cod, with Anchovy or Oyster Sauce.
Roast Turkey, with Stewed Celery, Sprouts and Potatoes.
Baked Ham and Endive Salad.
Plum Pudding. Apple Soufflee. Meringues.
Stilton Cheese, Biscuits, and Dessert.
MENU No. 2.
Oxtail Soup.
Fried Fillets of Haddock, Genoise Sauce.
Chicken Mayonnaise.
Roast Saddle of Welsh Mutton, Brocoli.
Salmi of Partridge.
Neapolitan Pudding.
Cheese or Anchovy Croustades.
A recipe for _Clear Gravy Soup_ may not be unnecessary. A pound of
gravy beef, and a small knuckle-bone of veal; simmer these in a glazed
earthenware vessel, that will hold about two quarts of water, for
several hours, but never allow the liquor to boil. When about half
cooked add to it a whole carrot cut in four, two or three onions and
a bunch of savoury herbs, but no turnip. Strain off the liquor when
done enough so that the fat may settle on the top, and then carefully
remove it all. When about to re-heat it, pour it into a fresh vessel
and season it to taste, then add a teaspoonful of cornflour wet with
water, and a teaspoonful of Liebig's Extract of Meat, to give a little
more "body" to the stock. Any special flavouring liked may be added at
this time, but if the liquor has been properly cooked its flavour will
be sufficiently good.
When we speak of "boiled" fish of any kind, it must be remembered that
it should never by any means actually "boil," but only simmer gently
until done. To boil anything is to spoil it, although, as a cookery
term, we speak of it so.
Of the sauces, it may be needful to mention one in detail, namely, the
Genoise sauce.
For this take half a pint of milk and put it into a saucepan with a
few strips of thin rind of fresh lemon; when it boils pour it on to a
spoonful of cornflour previously dissolved in a little cold milk, add
this to the yolks of two eggs, an ounce of butter, pepper and salt, and
stir these carefully over the fire. When the mixture boils, withdraw
it, and add gradually the juice of half a fresh lemon. This sauce
should be a clear bright yellow and of the consistency of good cream.
It is usual to stuff a turkey with sausage-meat at the breast end and
put a veal stuffing in the body of the bird, or a mixture of boiled
chestnuts, breadcrumbs and forcemeat is very good, but somewhat rich.
The time the bird will take to roast depends entirely upon its weight,
a quarter of an hour to a pound is the correct proportion to allow.
Keep well basted, and shield it from the fierce heat.
If intended for eating cold a turkey is never so nice as when
"braised," if only a vessel can be found large enough to contain it
and keep it covered. A few slices of fat bacon should be put with it,
and plenty of good dripping, and rather more time allowed than for
roasting; moreover, the cover should be kept tightly closed to keep in
the steam. Drain away all the fat, but leave the bird to get cold in
the pan. Garnish with its gravy when that has set to a jelly.
The sauce for a salmi should be prepared first, and the joints of
the birds just allowed to simmer in it for a little while. Make the
gravy from very good strong stock, adding a thickening that shall be
transparent, and whatever drops of gravy can be gathered together. A
little beef essence may be needed to enrich the stock, also plenty of
seasoning. Chopped mushrooms should be added whenever possible, not
many will be required. Serve fried potato chips with a salmi, but no
other vegetable.
Almost everyone has a recipe for plum pudding; it is one of those
possessions about which every woman is more or less conceited, so we
will not take up space by giving another here. _Neapolitan Pudding_
may, however, be new to some of our readers, and it is one that is well
worth being known by all. For it a few macaroons, some sponge cakes, a
little apricot jam and a pint or more of rich well-flavoured custard
will be needed. Half an ounce of dissolved isinglass should be stirred
into the custard, and this should be flavoured with some essence.
Arrange the macaroons at the bottom and round the sides of a buttered
mould. Spread the sponge cakes with jam, and fit them in, pouring a
little juice over all. Pour in the custard while it is hot, and cover
the mould tightly, setting it aside to become cold and stiff. When it
is turned out, heap some bright jelly around the base and garnish the
top with preserved cherries and greengages cut small.
Meringues are more difficult to make, and require practice to do them
well. The cases require the frothed whites of the eggs to be whisked
until very firm, and the sugar should be beaten in with a light hand.
Drop this by small spoonfuls on to greased note-paper; bake to a
very pale brown, slip off the paper with a sharp knife, scoop out a
little of the inside and fill up with cream whipped very stiffly. Any
flavouring that may be liked can be used.
Croustades of various kinds have been given so often in these pages
that it is hardly necessary to repeat the recipe here. Fry the bread in
butter or lard, and spread with whatever mixture is chosen whilst they
are warm, garnish prettily, and serve warm and fresh though not hot.