a little
sugar, and bake it in a moderate oven.

RECEIPT 26.--Boiled arrow root pudding: Mix as before, only do not let
it quite boil. Stir it briskly for some time, after putting it on the
fire the second time, at a heat of not over 180 degrees. When cooled,
add three eggs and a little salt.

RECEIPT 27.--Cottage pudding: Two pounds of potatoes, pared, boiled, and
mashed, one pint of milk, three eggs, and two ounces of sugar, and if
you choose, a little salt. Bake it three quarters of an hour.

RECEIPT 28.--Snow balls: Pare and core as many large apples as there are
to be balls; wash some rice--about a large spoonful to an apple will be
enough; boil it in a little water with a pinch of salt, and drain it.
Spread it on cloths, put on the apples, and boil them an hour. Before
they are turned out of the cloths, dip them into cold water.

Macaroni is made into puddings a great deal, and so is vermicelli; but
they are at best very indifferent dishes. Those who live solely to eat
may as well consult "Vegetable Cookery," where they will find
indulgences enough and too many, even though flesh and fish are wholly
excluded. They will find soups, pancakes, omelets, fritters, jellies,
sauces, pies, puddings, dumplings, tarts, preserves, salads,
cheese-cakes, custards, creams, buns, flummery, pickles, syrups,
sherbets, and I know not what. You will find them by hundreds. And you
will find directions, too, for preparing almost every vegetable
production of both hemispheres. And if you have brains of your own you
may invent a thousand new dishes every day for a long time without
exhausting the vegetable kingdom.

DIVISION V.--PIES.

Pies, as commonly made, are vile compounds. The crust is usually the
worst part. The famous Peter Parley (S. G. Goodrich, Esq.), in his
Fireside Education, represents pies, cakes, and sweetmeats as totally
unfit for the young.

Within a few years attempts have been made to get rid of the crust of
pies--the abominations of the crust, I mean--by using Indian meal sifted
into the pans, etc.; but the plan has not succeeded. It is the pastry
that gives pies their charm. Divest them of this, and people will almost
as readily accept of plain ripe fruit, especially when baked, stewed, or
in some other way cooked.

As pies are thus objectionable, and are, withal, a mongrel race,
partaking of the nature both of bread and fruit, and yet, as such, unfit
for the company of either, I will almost omit them.