Marion Harland's Complete Cook Book: A Practical and Exhaustive Manual of Cookery and Housekeeping

in water to which one tablespoonful of vinegar has been added. Drain and mince and add to the sauce. Imitation caper sauce Cut cucumber pickles into tiny cubes with a sharp knife. Do not chop them, as the bits must be of uniform size. Drain perfectly dry and stir into hot drawn butter. Boil for one minute. Eat with fish or chops. FAMILIAR TALK IS IMPROMPTU HOSPITALITY A LOST ART Without staying to prove my premises I take it for granted nobody will dispute that what it pleases me to call impromptu hospitality is an out-of-date virtue. In the very olden time there were those who were backward in the practice of it. Else the fisherman Apostle would not have enjoined upon the “strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia,” to “use hospitality, one to another, without grudging.” An ancient writer says: “The primitive Christians made one principal part of their duty to consist in the exercise of hospitality; and they were so exact in the practice of it that the very heathens admired them for it.” From which we gather that the Apostolic admonition had fallen into good soil and brought forth much fruit. It would be interesting to know when the _quid pro quo_ element entered into and defiled the noble virtue. The primitive Christians aforesaid had no knowledge of this alloy, while the recollection of the Master’s teaching was fresh in their minds: “For if ye lend to them of whom you hope to receive, what thank have ye?” The principle that moves me to invite those to sit at my table and sleep under my roof who can return the favor in kind, or be useful in turn to me in some way, is barter, not hospitality. When I give a feast—be it afternoon tea, or the gravest of social functions, a dinner party—to five hundred, or to five people who have invited me at some time to their houses—and because of the obligation under which their invitations have laid me—I may be honest. I am not generous. I pay a debt. I do