o maids in black, with white caps, opened a door into the dining-
room and announced luncheon. As this is written on the theme that
"people know too little how their neighbors live," I give the _menu_. It
may amuse my readers and serve, perhaps, as a little object lesson to
those at home who imagine that quantity and not quality is of importance.

Our gracious hostess had earned a fortune in her profession (and I am
told that two _chefs_ preside over her simple meals); so it was not a
spirit of economy which dictated this simplicity. At first, _hors
d'oeuvres_ were served,--all sorts of tempting little things,--very thin
slices of ham, spiced sausages, olives and caviar, and eaten--not merely
passed and refused. Then came the one hot dish of the meal. "One!" I
think I hear my reader exclaim. Yes, my friend, but that one was a
marvel in its way. Chicken _a l'espagnole_, boiled, and buried in rice
and tomatoes cooked whole--a dish to be dreamed of and remembered in
one's prayers and thanksgivings! After at least two helpings each to
this _chef-d'oeuvre_, cold larded fillet and a meat _pate_ were served
with the salad. Then a bit of cheese, a beaten cream of chocolate,
fruit, and bon-bons. For a drink we had the white wine from which
champagne is made (by a chemical process and the addition of many
injurious ingredients); in other words, a pure _brut_ champagne with just
a suggestion of sparkle at the bottom of your glass. All the party then
migrated together into the smoking-room for cigarettes, coffee, and a
tiny glass of _liqueur_.

These details have been given at length, not only because the meal seemed
to me, while I was eating it, to be worthy of whole columns of print, but
because one of the besetting sins of our dear land is to serve a
profusion of food no one wants and which the hostess would never have
dreamed of ordering had she been alone.

Nothing is more wearisome than to sit at table and see course after
course, good, bad, and indifferent, served, after you have eaten what you
want. And nothing is more vulgar than to serve them; for either a guest
refuses a great deal of the food and appears uncivil, or he must eat, and
regret it afterwards. If we ask people to a meal, it should be to such
as we eat, as a general thing, ourselves, and such as they would have at
home. Otherwise it becomes ostentation and vulgarity. Why should one be
expelled to eat more than usual because a friend has been n