The answer is not recorded, for in the manner of making chiefly lies the speciality of the Old Cheshire Cheese. The hand of the proprietor himself compounds the ingredients in a secret room, secure from the gaze of even his most inquisitive attendants. Yet when we look on the immense bowl from which sixty or seventy people are to be fed, one cannot wonder at the lady’s desire to know how such a Brobdingnagian dish could be so exquisitely prepared. The proportions of the bowl are emblematic of the profusion with which its contents are dispensed, and even Gargantua would find himself vanquished in presence of the “Cheese” hospitality. Old “William,” for many years the head-waiter, could only be seen in his real glory on Pudding Days. He used to consider it his duty to go round the tables insisting that the guests should have second or third, ay, and with wonder be it spoken, fourth helpings. “Any gentleman say pudden?” was his constant query; and his habit was not broken when a crusty customer growled: “No _gentleman_ says pudden.” William either never saw the point or disdained to make reply. The narrow limits of this volume are all too small for a complete collection of the prose and verse written in praise of the pudding. A few examples must serve. In “Ye Lay of Ye Lost Minstrel,” printed in the _West London Observer_ (April, 1890), are a number of verses in praise of the “Cheese,” by Mr. William Henderson. We give the following extract from his poem:— If you’d dine at your ease Try “Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.” At this famous resort In the Wine Office Court Kickshaws, entrées or slops You’ll not get, but the chops Devil’d kidneys and steaks He will say who partakes Are all second to none— To a turn they are done! But the pudding!—oh my! You look on with a sigh, As it comes piping hot From the cauldron or pot— Oh the savour, the taste, Of its lining, its paste! How it wells! how it swells! In its bosom there dwells Food for gods, meat for men, Who resort to Moore’s den. A parody by the same author will appeal to the sentiment of those who scorn a foreign yoke. It is inscribed to Beaufoy A. Moore, and was published by Mr. J. H. Wadsworth, of Boston (U.S.A.):— YE PUDDING’S REQUIEM AIR: DEATH OF NELSON. We sought “The Cheese,” with thirst and hunger prest, And own we love the pudding day the best. But no one quarrels with the chops cook’d here, Or steaks, when wash’d down by Old English beer!