"At half-past six the guests began to arrive; at a quarter to seven Dumas retired to his dressing-room; at seven punctually the servant announced that 'monsieur était servi.' The dinner consisted of the aforenamed _soupe aux choux_, the carp that had led to the invitation, a _ragoût de mouton à la Hongroise_, _rôti de faisans_, and a _salade Japonaise_. The sweets and ices had been sent by the _pâtissier_. I never dined like that before or after--not even a week later, when Dr. Véron and Sophie made the _amende honorable_ in the Rue Taitbout." As a sample of Dumas' abilities in the _petite cuisine_, his _potage aux choux_ may be cited,--his mode of preparing Sauerkraut, like that of all French cooks, is not to be commended: "Take a sound fresh cabbage, hash up all the remains of fowl and game that may be on hand, and have a good yesterday's bouillon, which pour in place of ordinary water on the beef intended for the day's bouillon. Then cover the bottom of the stewpan with a slice of fine ham, remove the leaves of the cabbage, and introduce the forcemeat, tying up the leaves afterwards so it will not be perceptible. Boil two hours, filling with the bouillon of the pot-au-feu as the bouillon of the boiling diminishes. After removing the bouillon from the fire, let the bouillon, cabbage, forcemeat, and ham simmer together for three quarters of an hour in the stewpan, give a last turn to the bouillon, serve your cabbage in the soup-tureen, allow it to cool a minute, and serve. Then you may have the choice of eating your cabbage in the soup, or of soaking some bread in the bouillon and making of your cabbage a relevé of the soup. Cooked in this manner, the cabbage, the bouillon, and the meat, each lending a part of its properties to the other, attain the greatest sapidity it is possible for them to attain." This is the _potage aux choux_. The _soupe aux choux_ is another matter that sounds equally appetising and has the advantage to the eye of puffing up the cabbage to far larger dimensions. The extended remarks on the pot-au-feu itself are well worth the careful attention of the housewife; the author declaring that the French cuisine owes its superiority to that of other nations to the excellence of its bouillon. Seven hours of slow and continuous boiling, he maintains, are necessary for it to acquire all the requisite qualities, _i. e._, to _faire sourire_ the soup. The term, "smile," is happily chosen. Every piece of bread in a good _croûte-au-pot_ wears a smile, and every dancing globule that remains after the skimmer has performed its office is a dimple on its face.