exclaims one enthusiastic French writer, "qui
mange des huîtres cuites? si l'on en excepte
Ies matelottes Normandes;" and yet there are
almost as many ways of preparing oysters as of
arranging eggs. Grimod de la Reynière gives
a list, in which he includes: "A la bonne
femme"—" à la daube"—" au Parmesan"— "en
casserole"— " au hachis"— "en paille"—
"farcies"—  " frites"— " sautées"—" grillées"— " en
papillotes"—" en caisse"—" en ragout"—" au
gras," and " au maigre;" and a pretty sort of
maigre that must be at which well-fed oysters
assist. Not to make a cookery-book of this
article, but to redeem a promise, I will give the
Breton way of dressing what M. de Cussy so
justly calls "ces truffes de la mer:"  "Having
selected some oysters of the largest size, drain
off the liquor in a fine cloth, and when dry
dredge them lightly with flour. Then cut up
two or three large onions very small, put in a
saucepan a bit of butter, and when it melts
throw in your onions. After they have been
there two or three minutes add the oysters, and
simmer them gently, seasoning with pepper and
salt as they are in progress. When slightly
browned, take them off the fire, suffer a few
drops of vinegar to moisten them, and then—"
do your worst, as Duguesclin, or the Constable
De Clisson, or any other famous Breton warrior
may (or may not) have done. Nicolo, the
composer, had a way of " accommodating" oysters, in
the society of a few other good things, which is
worth citing. He passed his life between his
piano and his saucepans, and prepared his
maccaroni after this fashion: He filled each pipe
with beef marrow, goose-liver, shreds of game
and truffles, and minced oysters, moistened well
with their own juice. Of this dish he always
ate with one hand over his eyes, that his
meditations might not be disturbed.

We all know how to eat oyster patties, but
it is not every one who has culinary knowledge
sufficient to declare how they should be made.
Here, therefore, is a final receipt: With plenty
of cream let veal sweetbreads divide the honour
with succulent shell-fish, giving an equal portion
of each, and sprinkling sliced truffles over the
compound before you fill your paste. I refrain
from saying more.

Bachelors in chambers are sometimes
advised to cheer their loneliness by roasting their
oysters; but the most original receipt for that
dish can only be put in practice on the alluvial
shores of Georgia. There oysters cling together
in great clusters among the long grass that
springs out of the rich soil. The neighbouring
inhabitants sometimes light a fire upon the
marsh-grass, roll a huge bunch of oysters upon
it, and revel in a barbaric oyster-feast.

No bounds appear ever to have been fixed
to the human appetite for oysters. Even the
fair sex, as yet free from the obnoxious attentions
of man and leading virgin lives, may
be tempted to try conclusions with their appetites
when oysters are in question. I have their
own authority for stating that two spinsters of
my acquaintance, one night after returning
from the theatre, disposed at supper of a whole
barrel of natives, containing some eight or ten
dozen, by placing them between the bars; and
this in the teeth of the fact that they had a:
dined on scolloped oysters. This latter circumstance
might, perhaps, have whetted them to
the deed, or they thought with Macbeth, that,
once in for it, " returning were as tedious as go
on." At all events, the ten dozen disappeared.
But then came shame and remorse. Only half
the number of shells were left on the dish, the
rest, carefully stowed away in the barrel, as if
they had been real oysters, were set aside.
On the following day came the self-imposed
penance for their gourmandise: the barrel was
brought out again, and a Barmecide banquet
followed; the remainder of the shells being
scattered about the table as if recently emptied,
and as if one result of two performances. I am
pleased to say that both these oyster-loving,
self-denying young women are happily married, and if
they still eat roasted oysters it is certain
ci-devant despised bachelors, now their husbands,
who have the pleasure, like the cat in the fable, of
withdrawing the oysters from between the bars.

But one might discourse about oysters for
ever; the pearl variety alone (Avicula margaritum)
would furnish a theme for an epic poem,
therefore let me conclude with this observation:
The fact is indisputable, that, from the earliest
period of antiquity down to the present time,
the oyster has enjoyed a reputation which it
has maintained through the lapse of ages and
the fall of empires: time itself has been unable
to destroy that reputation, because whatever is
really useful and beneficial to humanity cannot
fail to be eternally venerated.

       A DAY'S RIDE: A LIFE'S ROMANCE.

                      CHAPTER XLV.

I WAS now bound for the first port in the
Mediterranean from which I could take ship
for Malta; and the better to carry out my
purpose, I resolved never to make acquaintance
with any one, or be seduced by any
companionship, till I had seen Miss Herbert, and
given her the message I was charged with.
This time, at least, I would be a faithful envoy,
at least as faithful as a man might be who had
gone to sleep over his credentials for a
twelve-month. And so I reached Maltz, and took my
place by diligence over the Stelvio down to
Lecco, never trusting myself with even the very
briefest intercourse with my fellow-travellers,
and suffering them to indulge in the humblest
estimate of me, morally and intellectually— all
that I might be true to my object and firm to
my fixed purpose. For the first time in my life
I tried to present myself in an unfavourable
aspect, and I was astonished to find the experiment
by no means unpleasing, the reason being,
probably, that it was an eminent success. I
began to see how the surly people are such
acute philosophers in life, and what a deal of
selfish gratification they must derive from their
uncurbed ill humour. I reached Genoa in time
to catch a steamer for Malta. It was crowded,