is not only the best known of all liqueurs, but the most wholesome. It will blend equally well with brandy and whisky. The best, in fact the original brand, is made in Amsterdam, with the peel of a very rare orange which grows in the island of Curaçoa, and falls from the tree before it is ripe. The peel of this is dried, and is known in the trade as the Curaçoa of Holland, to distinguish it from other Curaçoas which have not the same property, although they are often sold in place of it. The Dutch distillers naturally keep their process a secret, but the French imitators declare that the Dutch secret is merely as follows: that five kilogrammes of dried peel of the Curaçoa of Holland and the zests of eighty fresh oranges are submitted to the action of sixty litres of alcohol (85 degrees, French measurement), and that, save in the colour, there is no real difference between white Curaçoas and brown. At all events either is very useful in a cocktail, or swizzle; and there are many restorative compounds, or “tonics” as they are called, into which the liqueur enters. {194} _Cassis_, owing to the ridiculously-high duty imposed upon its importation, is comparatively unknown in England, although it can be obtained at every little roadside _cabaret_ in France, cheap enough. The cassis of Dijon has a great reputation as a cooling drink. There is an infinitesimal portion of alcohol in it, and it can, I should say, be easily made at home by anybody who possesses some nice ripe black-currants. Still the nearest the ordinary English householder gets to cassis is in the manufacture of so-called “black-currant tea”; and you only get that when you have a sore throat. _Chartreuse._ One of the most severe sects of monks manufacture a liqueur which is the highest prized and priced of all, for the benefit of Sybarites who deny themselves no luxury in life. St. Bruno the founder of this order chose for his monastery the most desolate and barren spot he could find in the mountains of Dauphiné, and forbade his followers to eat the flesh of bird or beast; the fruit of the vine and strong waters being likewise defended. But one of them discovered, nevertheless, that a most seductive liquid could be distilled from plants, chief amongst them being Angelica Archangelica—a plant which it is probable did not receive its holy name until trial had been made of the distillation. The Carthusian monks have the sole right of selling this liqueur—a right which brings them in a very {195} substantial revenue; for Chartreuse is esteemed—in France, at all events—above all _chasses_. The yellow kind is the best, and the white mildest of the three, of which the green is fiery. Personally, I prefer curaçoa, or, better still, cognac ’65.