STENOGRAPHER.—We fear you may have a struggle to support your husband and son in this country by your own unaided exertions as shorthand writer and typist. Still, we believe it might be done if you are very efficient and ready to undertake work at all times and seasons, and to do it often under conditions of great pressure. If at first you could manage to join a lady who already has an office, and act as her chief assistant, we think that might be wisest, as we assume that you have no means of setting up an office of your own. You ought to stipulate for a fixed salary and a certain percentage on the business done by the office. If you simply went out to work on your own account, you might look to receive a guinea a day for first-rate verbatim reporting of meetings, etc.—but orders of this kind are only occasional—or from £1 10s. to £2 a week if you were competent to take an important secretarial post to a society. Merely as a stenographer and typist you would probably not receive so much. Altogether we fear you will have a hard struggle to make a living for three persons. MISCELLANEOUS. E. M. B.—What you really mean are “cheese straws,” and if you had looked for them by that name, you would have found them, we are sure. They are made as follows:—2 oz. of butter, 2 oz. of flour, 2 oz. of parmesan cheese, 1 oz. of cheddar cheese, 1 egg, salt, red pepper. Put the flour into a bowl, and mix with it the salt and pepper, the grated cheese, and the butter, and, with the yolk of the egg, make into a smooth paste, rather stiff. Then roll it out into a strip of about five inches long, and about an eighth of an inch thick. Cut into strips of equal sizes, and also some rounds for rings. Grease a tin and put them on it, and bake in a hot oven for ten minutes till of a pale brown. To send to table, put the straws through the rings like a bundle of sticks, and hand round in a silver dish. FLORA.—As we are quite old-fashioned people, we should say, “Never marry without your mother’s consent,” and certainly do not worry yourself about matrimony as long as you write so dreadful a hand and distribute your capital letters so recklessly. Of course, marriage is an important subject, but we can dispense with capital letters when we inquire At What Age We May Marry Without our Mother’s Consent. In point of fact, dear foolish Flora, you are of age at twenty-one, and, in a restricted sense, are at liberty to do all sorts of silly things, which we hope you will avoid doing. As a Christian, you are only free in so far as you honour your parents.