The cooking of oatmeal marks an advance in civilisation, I suppose. Even the very word porridge is more recent, and marks an epoch when the Scotch received some instructions from one of the Latin nations; the original word being either from the Latin _porrus_, a leek, or the old French _porree_, or a pottage, made of beets with other pot herbs, a kind of food made by boiling vegetables in water with or without meat. The person who taught me to make the best of porridge was an Irishwoman, and her method was to stir the oatmeal into the pot containing the boiling water, which must be bubbling fiercely, and must also have been salted. The oatmeal she sprinkled in with her left hand (having the oatmeal close to her) and stirring all the time busily with her right hand. Long experience will tell you how thick to make it, and it wants at least half an hour’s boiling to cook it properly. But the most delightful form of gruel is that made by a Scotchwoman with milk and not water; and this needs well boiling too. Many people, however, prefer the gruel made by steeping the oatmeal in water for some hours, and pouring off the water and boiling that. The best gruel, I consider, is to be obtained on an Atlantic steamer; especially if it should happen to be of Scotch extraction, and to have a Scotch stewardess. There is some consolation in your sorrows at sea, if you can get some of the chicken broth they make on the Cunard steamers, which is quite too good to be forgotten. They put barley into it, I think, or perhaps rice; but whatever the flavour is, I have never succeeded in obtaining the same on shore, and I am inclined to think it is the long boiling that is the secret. When cold it forms a solid and nearly clear jelly. There is plenty of oatmeal, too, in haggis, that essentially Scottish dish, which Robert Burns called “The great chieftain of the pudding race.” The component parts of a haggis are a sheep’s head and liver, boiled, minced, mixed with suet, onions, oatmeal and seasoning, moistened with beef gravy, and put into a haggis bag and boiled. A haggis will keep for some time, as it is quite firm, and may be packed for a journey. But in that last event the onions must be omitted in the making of it. Both black and white puddings are indebted to oatmeal for some of their filling, but few people, unless educated up to it, appreciate either of these delicacies. Cock-a-leekie is a Scotch name for a very ancient English dish, that was known as long ago as the 14th century by the name of Malachi. “Ma” is the old name for a fowl, and Malachi means sliced fowl. So, though the modern rendering seems to promise that the leeks in it would be too prominent for most people, it is a mistake. The fowl is first half roasted, then boiled in broth, then cut up, and served with a quantity of vegetables, mostly onions. Spices were added, and the broth was thickened with fine oatmeal.