When a correspondent writes of what she saw at the South Kensington Cooking School, she seems to be the most taken by the ceremoniousness with which the grand high priestess washes her fingers and dries them on a snowy side-towel every few moments. That is all good kitchen form though, as long as there is not much serious work to do. You may hear the boys anywhere, in the Rocky Mountains or at the Gulf of Mexico or the eastern sea-shore mention the Cincinnati House at Gibson City as, a pattern, because every morning every cook whatever his grade, is not only furnished a clean towel, but finds it hungon the hook under the edge of the table at his place when he comes to work. At this small Summer house the towel question seemed to be a knotty one for a while until that good ana smart and pretty girl, who was my second,unravelled it. After making the one laundry woman, gasp with discouragement at the sight of the jackets, caps and aprons I put upon her according to custom, I was positively afraid to say towels to her; it was the last straw and might have broke her back or raised a rebellion. And yet what was to be done?

There is nothing degardes the kitchen so much as the shameful black rag that lies on the table in contact very likely, with the best and whitest dishes, and when hot baking-pans are to be handled and black-bottomed pots to be carried and table corners to be wiped off as well as one's hands a hundred times,thc whitest towel becomes vile in two or three hours. I suppose that last year Mary Jane used to wash her towels out in the afternoon instead of taking her needed half hour's nap, poor thing. Well, I had three new towels with my knives wrapped in, in my valise and out they came and all was well for a day or two while they were new and nice. But my second was one of those extremely clean girls; she used to wash and wipe every egg before they should be used if the lots came in the least off color; she washed the baking potatoes in three waters with a scrubbing brush, washed green peas before she shelled them, picked over coffee grains and beans one by one and never knew trouble or stopped singing until the work increased so that she could not do those things. It was about the evening of the fifth day that she was first struck by the enormity of the dirtiness of those towels,