Some shreds of anchovy should be arranged "criss-cross" in a flat glass dish. Surround it with small heaps of chopped truffles, yolk and white of hard-boiled eggs, capers, and a stoned olive or two. Mix all the ingredients together with a little Chili vinegar, and twice the quantity of oil. The mixture is said to be invaluable as an appetiser; but the modest oyster on the _deep shell_--if he has not been fattened at the bolt-hole of the main sewer--is to be preferred. Cooked vegetables, for salad purposes, are not, nor will they ever be, popular in England, Nine out of ten Britains will eat the "one sauce" with asparagus, in preference to the oiled butter, or plain salad dressing, of mustard, vinegar, pepper, salt, and oil; whilst 'tis almost hopeless to attempt to dissuade madame the cook from smothering her cauliflowers with liquefied paste, before sending them to table. Many a wild weed which foreign nations snatch greedily from the soil, prior to dressing it, is passed by with scorn by our islanders, including the dandelion, which is a favourite of our lively neighbours, for salad purposes, and is doubtless highly beneficial to the human liver. So is the cauliflower; and an eminent medical authority once gave out that the man who ate a parboiled cauliflower, as a salad, every other day, need never send for a doctor. Which sounds rather like fouling his own nest. _Fruit Salad._ This is simply a French _compôte_ of cherries, green almonds, pears, limes, peaches, apricots in syrup slightly flavoured with ginger; and goes excellent well with any cold brown game. Try it. _Orange Salad._ Peel your orange, and cut it into thin slices. Arrange these in a glass dish, and sugar them well. Then pour over them a glass of sherry, a glass of brandy, and a glass of maraschino. _Orange Sauce._ Cold mutton, according to my notions, is "absolutely beastly," to the palate. More happy homes have been broken up by this simple dish than by the entire army of Europe. And 'tis a dish which should never be allowed to wander outside the servants' hall. The superior domestics who take their meals in the steward's room, would certainly rise in a body, and protest against the indignity of a cold leg, or shoulder. As for a cold loin--but the idea is too awful. Still, brightened up by the following condiment, cold mutton will go down smoothly, and even gratefully:-- Rub off the thin yellow rind of two oranges on four lumps of sugar. Put these into a bowl, and pour in a wine-glass of port, a quarter pint of dissolved red-currant jelly, a teaspoonful of mixed mustard--don't be frightened, it's all right--a finely-minced shallot, a pinch of cayenne, and some more thin orange rind. Mix well. When heated up, strain and bottle off.