That light be well diffused throughout the kitchen; That you may see how the wind blows, and how The smoke inclines, which, as it leans to this Or t' other quarter, a good cook knows well To take advantage of the circumstance, And make it favourable to his art. Then military tactics have their use; And this the learn'd professor knows, and like A prudent general, marshals out his force In proper files, for order governs all; He sees each dish arranged upon the board With due decorum, in its proper place, And borne from thence in the same order, too; No hurry, no confusion; his quick eye Discovers at a glance if all is right; Knows how to suit the taste of every guest, If such a dish should quickly be removed, And such another occupy its place. To one serves up his food quite smoking hot, And to another moderately warm, Then to a third quite cold, but all in order, And at the moment, as he gives the word. This knowledge is derived, as you perceive, From strict attention to the rules of art And martial discipline.—Would you know more? _B._ I am quite satisfied, and so farewell.—ANON. _The same._ Such lore, he said, was requisite For him who _thought_ beside his spit; And undeterr'd by noise or heat, Could calmly con each new receipt: _Star knowledge_ first, for _meats_ are found With rolling months to go the round; And, as the sunshine's short or long, Yield flavours exquisite or strong: _Fishes_, 'tis known, as seasons vary, Are delicate, or quite 'contrary;' The tribes of _air_, like those of fin, Change with each sign the sun goes in: So that who only knows _what_ cheer, Not when to buy's no cook, 'tis clear. A cook who would his kitchen show, Must also architecture know; And see, howe'er it blows without, His fire, like Vesta's, ne'er goes out; Nor soot unsightly smudge the dish, And spoil the _vol au vent_, or fish. Nor only to the chimney looks Our true Mageiros, king of cooks; Beside the chimney, that his eye May clearly view the day's supply, He opes his window, in that spot Where Sol peeps in, to show what's what: The range, the dresser, ceiling, floor, What cupboard, shelves, and where the door Are his to plan; and if he be The man I mean, to each he'll see. Lastly, to marshal in array The long-drawn line of man and tray: The light-arm'd first, who nimbly bear Their glittering _lances_ through the air; And then the hoplitic troop to goad, Who bend beneath their _chargers'_ load, And, empty dishes ta'en away, Place solid flank for new assay; While heavy tables creak and groan