GAME. 321 
lady two and twenty recipes against melancholy: One was a 
bright fire ; another to remember all the pleasant things said of 
and to her ; another to keep a box of sugar-plums on the chimney 
piece, and a kettle simmering on the hob. I thought this mere 
trifling at the moment, but have in after life discovered how true 
it is that these little pleasures often banish melancholy better 
than higher and more exalted objects.” 
The flesh of a hare is such dry food that cooks have a saying, 
“ A hare with twelve pennyworth of sauce is worth only a shilling.” 
Matthiolus prescribed hare’s liver dried, and reduced to powder, 
as a specific for biliary derangements; this was anticipating 
the advanced scientific treatment now recognized of such dis- 
orders by an animal extract from the same healthy organ (of 
sheep, calf, etc.), as that at fault in the human subject. The 
iodine value, and drying property of hares’ fat are remarkable, 
as showing the presence therein of an unsaturated acid. The 
hare was not eaten by the ancient Britons. Hippocrates for- 
bade its use because thickening the blood, and causing wakeful- 
ness. None the less hare soup is a favourite English dish having 
some of the blood included. The proverbial phrase “ first catch 
your hare” (before proceeding to cook it), was attributed to 
Mrs. Glasse in Dr. Johnson’s time, this having actually been a 
misprint in her Cookery book, for “ first case (or, skin) your hare.”’ 
The aphorism signifies that before disposing of a thing one should 
first make sure of possessing it. In Shakespeare’s time there 
were several superstitions about the hare; its shape, and aspect 
were thought to be assumed frequently by witches; the blood 
was reputed to cure ringworm, a bone of the hind leg prevented 
cramp, the skin burnt to powder stanched blood, and the animal 
was believed to have taught men the medicinal virtues of the 
succory plant. 
Under the Levitical law propounded by Moses the hare was 
prohibited as food for the Israelites because “he cheweth the 
cud, but divideth not the hoof, therefore he is unclean unto 
ou.”’ 
Charles Lamb devoutly favoured roasted hare as delicious 
food. “‘ Pheasants,” said he, “are poor fowls dressed in fine 
feathers ! but a hare! roasted hard and brown, with gravy and 
melted butter!” Old Mr. Chambers, the sensible clergyman 
in Warwickshire, used to allow a pound of Epping to every hare. © 
Perhaps that was overdoing it! But in spite of the note of 
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