Now for the supplies which he must keep on hand. This list includes, beside the necessities in one column, the luxuries in the other. These bought, he may bargain for his milk and cream to be left at the door and may also arrange for his butter and eggs as he wishes. Then the vegetables, fruit, meat and fish will be bought as he requires them. It is always well to have a few canned things on hand in case of emergencies.

Necessities Salt

Pepper, black and red Soup herbs or poultry seasoning Mustard

Sugar, cut and powdered Ginger Macaroni Wheat flour Spaghetti Indian meal Onions Cereal—whatever desired

Biscuits in variety, including sweet biscuits and water biscuits, as wished

Oil

Vinegar

Worcestershire sauce

Tabasco sauce

Rice

Laundry soap

Coffee

Tea

Cocoa

Condensed milk or cream

Olives

The bachelor in an apartment, who has limited space and wishes to confine his cookery to a few chafing dish dainties, may invest properly in one of the handy chafing dish cabinets that are so attractively fashioned in mission style with a " place for everything." Perchance he may also have - and probably will - a cabinet in which to keep his bottles, mixing glasses, shakers, etc., which is styled appropriately enough " the Bachelor Cabinet."

He may get on nicely with a half dozen plates, his steins, some silver knives, forks, and spoons, and possibly some small plates for toast, bread, or biscuits. These, with some small dishes of cut glass for salted almonds, olives, celery and such relishes, will be quite sufficient for ordinary use. In his cabinet with the chafer he should have the alcohol, salt, pepper, mustard, Wor-cesterhire or Harvey sauce, chutney, paprika, bicarbonate of soda, oil and vinegar, and possibly some anchovy essence, which so improves many chafing dish specialties. These, with some saltines and a jar of potted cheese - unless he desires some of the more perishable varieties - will be quite sufficient with the usual accompaniments, in case he wants to make a rabbit, an English Monkey, a Newburg, or some other simple delicacy for an after-theater supper. The other things in the other cabinet - what bachelor needs to be shown what to buy? He surely ought to have a few bottles of carbonated water and some limes always handy, as well as a little imported ginger ale in case he may entertain a teetotaller. Ginger ale is not the worst beverage in the world with a good rabbit, while lime and seltzer is a refreshing drink at any time in the year.

The poor hall bedroom laddie with his pathetic makeshift on the window ledge may not afford such an elaborate layout. But for a dollar he may invest either in a little alcohol stove with a quart skillet in which to cook his cereal or boil water for his tea, or buy a few feet of tubing and a tiny gas stove. One bachelor who earned a scanty $15 a week made for himself a really attractive cupboard from a tall shoe box, perhaps four feet in height and half as wide and deep. It was stained, a row of brass headed nails driven around the edge, some shelves nicely fitted in, a few hooks added and a denim curtain, and in it was his whole outfit nicely concealed from inquisitive eyes. And he had some feasts too, if they were cooked in a ten-penny frying pan on his little gas stove. That he made his coffee in a woman's afternoon tea kettle with an alcohol lamp was his affair; and it was nectar. His tastes were simple, at the same time he had a variety. In the morning, a cup or two of delicious coffee with condensed cream, one or two English muffins nicely toasted and buttered, a couple of eggs, fried, boiled, or scrambled, as he elected, or perhaps poached on a bit of toast, and a bit of fruit, made a splendid breakfast for a chap leading a sedentary life. The down-town luncheon and dinner were more elaborate, and if he wished a bite in the evening when a friend dropped in, or he came in late from his weekly night at the theatre, there were all sorts of appetizing things to be concocted in the tiny frying pan, in which a basin was set and surrounded with water in lieu of a chafing dish. Finally he bought a double boiler, thus escaping scalded fingers from too close contact with steam.

What did he eat? The usual thing culled from a cookery book dedicated to the chafing dish - and some concoctions of his own, which appear in another chapter. But no one I ever knew could do up oysters and clams and crabs as nicely as he; sea food was his specialty, and, living on the coast, he was able to gratify this taste, even to the extent of serving on his one table for some admiring chap as delicious a Lobster Newberg, devilled crab, or oysters panned, California pepper - roasted or fried, as ever were tasted. His oysters, fried in oil, as Minico Finelli used to do them in Philadelphia, were luscious.

His weekly bill was very small - but he never made the mistake of buying cheap things and always insisted upon the best of butter, eggs, and whatever else he bought.

" I have generally found that in buying so-called ' bargains' in edibles," he said, " there is so much waste that it invariably pays to buy the best of everything. The satisfaction of knowing that it is the best more than makes up for the few extra pennies spent."