A hot-water plate is necessary for the operator, or, better still, a slop-basin filled with water as near the boiling point as possible, with a plate placed atop. Melt on this plate a piece of butter about the size of a walnut, and when the butter is oiled stir therein with a fork the beaten yolk of one egg. Keep on the stir, and add, gradually, a dessert spoonful of essence of anchovies. Add cayenne, according to your disposition, or indisposition, and then you will be ready for a nice strip or two of delicately-browned toast, brought up hot from the kitchen fire. Soak the toast in the mixture, and eat as much as you can. Above is the estimate for _one_ invalid. It is essentially a pick-me-up for a bachelor—benedicts never require these things—and if, whilst in barracks, or chambers, Jack, Tom, and Harry should call, the proportions of the ingredients must, of course, be increased. A glass or two of the Boy will be found to go down excellent well with this toast, the secret of which I learnt long years ago, in British India. It is _not_ a dish for the dinner-table. A _Baltimore Egg Nogg_ reads like a “large order.” It is said by its {206} author to be “an excellent drink for debilitated people, and a nourishing diet for consumptives.” And he would be a Good Samaritan, who would wait outside the big gates of Holloway Castle, on a Monday morning, in order to administer the nogg, in full doses, to the starved captives on their release. It would also, I should imagine, make an excellent hospital drink, for a score or so of patients. Beat the yolks of sixteen eggs and twelve tablespoonfuls of pulverized loaf-sugar to the consistency of cream; stir into this two-thirds of a grated nutmeg, and then pour in half a pint of good old brandy, or Jamaica rum—or both _n.q._—and three wine-glasses of Madeira. Have ready the whites of the sixteen eggs, whipped to a stiff froth, and beat them well into the above mixture, and then stir in six pints of new milk, as fresh as possible from the cow. One of the best restoratives is that which is frequently given by the trainer of an athlete, or boxer, should his charge feel the effects of overwork. It consists of the heart of a good loin chop, free from fat, and neither underdone nor overdone, on a very hot plate, with a glass of port wine poured over the meat. Another familiar strengthener is prepared in the following way:— Put a tablespoonful of old brandy into half a pint of good beef-tea. And by beef-tea I mean the juices of the meat extracted at home, and not by the employées of advertising firms. “Breakfast delicacies” and tinned preparations are only for the unwary. This may be taken either hot or cold. {207} _Orange Quinine_ is an excellent tonic. To a pint bottle of orange wine add ten grains of sulphate of quinine, cork well, and let it stand for a few days. Take a wine-glassful at a time, either with or without a dash of soda-water. _Brandy-and-Soda_,