farthest;
while our gentlemen displayed a degree of inefficiency and helplessness
which would have disgraced a six-year-old girl with a moderate amount
of sense.

All went well during the earlier part of the feast. Dish after dish was
partaken of, and commended; and there was a universal chorus of
approval for the fair cooks.

"It is going to pass off without a failure," I said to myself,
recalling triumphantly the scepticism as to our capabilities, which
some of our friends had testified.

And now appeared, in its turn, my own dish,--the "food for the
gods,"--brought by Thomas and his assistants, with a little extra
flourish as the work of their own young lady.

We were in groups of four, at little tables placed about the room; and
the gentlemen, as had been arranged, were helped first to each course.
Happening to raise my eyes to address the youth upon my right hand, I
saw his countenance suddenly distorted by a contortion expressive of
any thing but pleasure. Turning involuntarily to my left-hand neighbor,
who happened to be Mr. Winston, I saw a grimace, almost similar, pass
over his face, followed by a look of blank astonishment at me.

Then came the voice of my brother Edward from an adjoining table, as he
sat with uplifted spoon, gazing down upon the contents of his plate.

"Amy," he said, "what under the heavens is this?"

"Food for the gods," I answered, startled and dismayed; for I could not
help seeing that something must be very wrong to betray Edward into
such a breach of etiquette.

"Then we will not deprive the gods of it," said my brother; "and may
the celestial--or was it for the infernal deities that it was
compounded?--forgive you for inflicting this upon them. Winston, spare
yourself, my dear fellow; the utmost stretch of politeness could not
demand such a sacrifice of you."

For Fred Winston, true gentleman and loyal knight that he was, was
making the most heroic efforts to swallow a little more of my
handiwork.

And this from Edward, usually the most chivalrous of brothers!

I glanced around the room, and saw a similar state of affairs on every
side. All those who had been unfortunate enough to taste the "food for
the gods" wore a more or less distressed expression. I plunged my own
spoon into my plate, and carried it to my mouth.

Pah! Any thing more nauseous I had seldom tasted. The gods were indeed
to be pitied!

I covered my face with my hands as a laugh pealed around the room;