The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1851-12-16 00:00:00

without an equitable
English agriculturist

ith many tragical results of ihiit
we extract a droll
oinzs of a female cook, selected from the

N's Legacy, a
ombines some highly

The-J

the for

_ iat enjoyment of
much from the scarcity
!it great cx-

s a dinner for the

equent upon the
Y he hit

ired some tolerable fare,
lint of the co-operation aff)rfled by
nmendcd to him by one of hie own

10KING EXTRAORDINARY!,
hastened to the kitchen, which was so
^* the dinner sometimes
Mrs. Bap, the new
the table beside her was
.ow to which protruded its
iiere the Major had put it to
c robust build, about half full,
itenance of Mrs. Bags wore a
not very intelligent smile, as she
e nain tb, was roasting on a spit before
done quite black, while the
for the machinery which

ningloon-

mei not rr

n rnotior

urliftcd hands

aba !" exclaimed Carlott
lrilta !"—Wh!A a knave of a woman !)
)us heavens!" said my grandfather,

she's roasting

it I Who ever heard of a roast ham ?"
" A many years," remarked Mrs. Bags, without turning her
head, and still smiling pleasantly, "have I lived in gentlemen'B
families—" Here this fragment of autobiography was termi-
nated by a hiccup.
" And the champagne bottle is empty," said Owen, handling
it. " A nice sort of cook this of yours, Major. She stems to
have constituted herself butler, too."
My grandfather advanced and lifted the other bottle to his

nose. "'Tis the old rum," he ejaculated with a groan. " But
if the woman has drunk all this 'twill be the death of her.
Bags," he called, " come here."
The spouse of Mrs. Bags emerged from a sort of scullery be-
hind the kitchen—a tall bony man, of an ugliness quite remark-
able, and with a very red face. He was better known by his
comrades as Tongs, in allusion probably to personal peculiari-
ties ; for the length of his legs, the width of his bony hips, and
the smallness of his head, Zave him some ,'istant resemblance
to that article. of domestic ironmongery; hut as his wife called
herself Mrs. Bags, and he was entered in the regimental books
by that name, it was probably his real appellation.
" Run directly to Dr. Fagan," said the Major, " and request
him to come here. Your wire has poisoned herself with rum."
" 'Tisn't rum," said Bags. somewhat thickly—"'tis fits."
" Fits !" said my grandfather.
" Fits," doggedly replied Mr. Bags, who seemed by no
means disturbed at the alleged indisposition of his wife—
often gets them."

" DOiirt alarm yourself, Major," said Owen, " I'll answer for
it she hasn't drunk all the rum. The scoundrel is half-drunk
himself, and smells like a spirit-vault. You'd better take your
wife away," he said to Bags.

" She can leave if she ON wanted." said Private Bags, with
dignity: "we never comes where we ain't wanted." And he
advanced to remove the lady. Mrs. Bags at first resisted this
measure, proceeding_ to deliver an eulogium on her own excel
lent qualities, moral and culinary. She had she said, the best
of characters, in proof of which she made reference to several
persons in various parts of the United Kingdom, and, as she
spoke, she smiled more affably than ever.
La picarilla no tiene verguenza," (the wretch is perfectly
shameless,) criod Carlotta, who, having hastily removed the
ham from the fire, was new looking after the rest of the din
ner. The fowls, cut up in small pieces, were boiling along with
the sheep's head, and, probably. to save time, the estimable
Mrs. Bags had put the rice and raisins destined for a pudding
into the pot along with them—certainly, as Owen remarked, a
bold innovation in cookery.

Still continuing to afforilthem glimpses of her personal his-
tory. Mrs. Bags was at length persuaded to retire along with
her helpmate.
" What astonishing impudence," said the Major, shutting
the door upon her, " to pretend to be a cook, and yet know no
better than to roast a ham !"

Carlotta was busy in remedying the disaster as far as she
could ; cutting the ham into slices, and frv'ng it, and making a
fricassee of the fowls, and fishing the raisins out of the pot. ex-
claiming bitterly all the while, in English and Spanish, azninst
the tunanta (equivalent to female scountirel or scamp) who had
spoilt the only nice dinner her pobrecito, her niuo, her qzterido,
(meaning my grandfather.) had been likely to enjoy for a long

time, stiipping occasionally in her occupations to give hint a
consolatory kiss. However, my grandfather did not keep up
the character of a martyr at all well : he took the matter really
very patiently; and when the excellent Carlotta had set be
dinner on the table, and he tasted the fine flavour of the mal-
treated ham, he speedily regained his accustomed good-
humour.

" It is very strange," he said presently, while searching with
a fork in the dish before him, " that a pair of fowls should
have only three wings, two legs, and one breast between them."
It certainly was net according to the order of nature; never-
theless the fact was so, all my grandfather's researches in the
dish failing to bring to light the missing members. This,how-
ever. was subsequently explained by the discovery of the re-
mains of these portions of the birds in the scullery, where they
appeared to have been eaten after being grilled ; and Mrs.
Bags' reason for adopting this mode of cooking them was also
rendered apparent—viz., that she might secure a share for
. _

letection

However. all this d:d not prevent them from making the best
of what was left, and the Major's face beamed as he drank
Carlotta's health in a glass of the remaining bottle of cham-
pagne, as brightly as if the dinner had been completely suc-
cessful.

" It is partly my fault, Owen," said the Major, '
havn't a joint of mutton instead of this sheep's head

" that you
I. I ought

before he was killed. Old Clotterbuck had secured a hatinch.
and he a single man you know—'tis thrown a!‘ay upon him._ I

[some for

)argain,

" We're lucky to get any," returned Owen. " Never was
such a scramble. Old Fiskin, the commissary, and Mrs.
O'Regan, the Major's wife, both swore the left leg was knocked
down to them ; neither would give in, and it was put lip again.
when the staff doctor, Pursum, who had just arrived in a treat

hurry, carried it off by bidding' eightpeince more than eit

and people say,"

doled Owen, " Mrs. O'Re;an avers openly

" God knows I" said my grandfather, " 'tis a difficult thing
in such a case to decide between politeness and a conscious-
ness of being in the right. Fiskin likes a good dinner."

exciting account of the perils and difficulties experienced
by the adventurous speculators and cutters of wood on
th• rivers of Maine and New Brunswick, and other re-