PURE AND IMPURE FOODS. 



121 



markable physique of the Arabs and their 

 resistance to the almost unbearable heat of 

 their country might be attributed, in part 

 at least, to the nature of their simple food. 

 At any rate, a thorough investigation of 

 the food value of the date and its adapta- 

 bility to the formation of foods for our hot 

 summer season should be made, and pos- 

 sibly this wonderful vegetable product, 

 which is now used in America only as a 

 second-class confection, might be utilized 

 as a basis of a nutritious new food. Such 

 investigations will never be made in that 

 part of the world where the dates are 

 grown, but must be undertaken by some 

 country like America, which is interested 

 in increasing the number of its food prod- 

 ucts." 



OLD DAYS IN A WESSEX VILLAGE. 

 A writer in a recent English review 

 gives an interesting account of life in the 

 early days in a West of England village. 

 Of culinary matters he says : "I do not 

 think that Wessex breeds cooks easily. 

 Those of us who are not too Keltic are at 

 any rate too Saxon to achieve kickshaws. 

 The fine art of cooking comes by nature, 

 and, in Western Europe at least, is mon- 

 opolized by the Latin peoples. What we 

 had of food we had in plenty, and, al- 

 though distress spread wide, and quickly 

 became acute when harvest failed, as a 

 general rule even the poorest in our West 

 country had enough to eat. Beef, mutton, 

 pork, fish, we had abundantly, for Wessex 

 lies between 2 seas, and we are a seafar- 

 ing people. These, with cabbage and bread, 

 formed the staple of the prospering poor, 

 while the more fortunate added venison, 

 capons, chickens, and wild fowl to this diet. 

 For the last 200 years, a loin of mutton 

 stewed and served in a thick broth has 

 been a favorite West country dish. I am 

 afraid we habitually overate and overdrank 

 but we loved plenty and our hands were 

 open. When some Wessex lord kept high 

 festival, the scene was Gargantuan. At a 

 great junketing which was held 150 years 

 ago at Ford House, not far from here, this 

 was the provision for the guests : 140 part- 

 ridges, 71 turkeys, 112 chickens, 258 larks, 

 3 deer, 6 oxen, 5 sheep, and '2^ calves.' 

 This feast was as remarkable for the va- 

 riety as for the abundance of the proven- 

 der. In addition to the foregoing, there 

 were also cooked and eaten mallards, plo- 

 vers, sea larks, pea hens, gulls and curlews. 

 Shell fish was much accounted of in those 

 days, for our neighboring borough provid- 

 ed for the judges, as they passed through 

 on circuit, what they then called 'a treat,' 

 one which surely must have been remem- 

 bered, seeing that it consisted of 30 lob- 

 sters, as many crabs, 100 scallops, 300 oys- 

 ters and 50 oranges. 



"The men of Wessex have long been cred- 

 ited with a particular capacity for liquor, 

 which, with the mead they still drink in 

 some of our villages, they inherit from the 

 earliest wassailing times. Of all drinks, of 

 course the cheapest and most plentiful were 

 cider and beer. Then came ale, not the 

 mild dinner beverage of today, but strong 

 old beer, which was drunk out of long 

 wineglasses. We did not traffic much in 

 wine, though canary, malaga, claret and 

 sack had each their vogue and were not 

 expensive. In the days of our grandfath- 

 ers' great grandfathers canary was 2 shill- 

 ings and claret a shilling a quart, and at 

 any entertainment the cost of wine bore a 

 proportion to the whole bill very different 

 from what it bears now. Sherry, by the 

 way, was scarcely known with us till the 

 middle of the 18th century, and just before 

 then, too, punch begins to figure in the old 

 bills." 



MINCE PIE. 

 I love to sit and think a while 



And smile ! 

 I love to sit and think a while, 

 A while the waiter up the aisle 

 Between the rows of tables neat, 

 Brings me the jumbled gob of sweet 



Mince pie ! 



Oh, my ! 



I love to grab the sprinkler in 



My fin: 

 I love to grab the sprinkler in 

 My shaking hand and then begin 

 To gently lift the pie's hot edge 

 And pulverized in rapture wedge 



In my 



Mince pie ! 



And then I love to take my ease 



And freeze, 

 And then I love to take my ease 

 And freeze to it and rub my knees 

 With t'other hand in sweet content, 

 All raptures of the joy gods blent 



In me ! 



Oh, gee ! 



I love to taste the toothsome dish 



And wish 

 That I might taste the toothsome dish 

 Till elephants all turn to fish 

 And maidens never long to wed ! 

 No other bliss may serve instead 



Of my 



Mince pie ! 



And then, when everything is done, 



And none, 

 And then, when everything is done, 

 And none is left where I'd begun, 

 I love to feel my proud soul soar 

 As eagerly I order more 



Mince pie : 



Oh, my ! — Unidentified. 



