Lyonaise potatoes are cold boiled potatoes sliced in a frying-pan, and Drowned with a little minced onion mixed with the drippings. But, on account of the very general objection to onions, at least among business people, the name of lyonaise is often given to the plain article, that is, to cold potatoes fried more or less brown, in a little fat in a frying-pan without the onions.

In this case, having no parsley I used green onions from the seed bed very sparingly, as much for the green sprinkling as for taste; partly fried the onions in the drippings before putting the potatoes in. Potatoes this way should be sliced small.

But who is going to scrub the kitchen? My gracious 1 And the housekeeper, from the Water Cure Home has been in since breakfast looking harder than ever. And there is my "sec." A great singer she is, wish not the least intention of having a scrub out, singing in chorus with three other German girls, and wip-ing pans, not at the hotel rate of a mile a minute, but at about the eighth of a mile an hour. It is a very pretty pic-nic, this summer resort business, at present and I hate to break it up.

"Shall we gather at the river The beautiful, beautiful river."

That is what they are singing but not in the same tongue. They have it:

I

Sammeln wir am Strom uns Alle, Wo die Engel warten schon,

Und die Wasser wie Crystalle Fliessen bin vor Gottes Thron.

Chor.

]a, wir sammeln uns am Strome, Dem herrlichen, dem herrlichen Strome;

Sammeln uns am Lebens Strom, Der da fliesst von Gottes Thron.

II

Dort, wo an des Strom's Gestade Sich die Silber-Welle brichs.

Preisen ewig wir die Gnade An dem Tag voll Glanz und Licht.

Chor.

Ja, wir sammeln unsgam Strome, etc.

111

Ehe wir zum Strom gelangen,

Legen jede Last win hin; Dort als Sieger zu empfangen

Kron' und Purpur zum Gewinn.

Chor.

Ja, wir sammeln uns am Strome etc.

IV

In des Stromes hellem Spiegel Nimmt man Jesus Antlitz wahr,

Und des Todes Schloss und Riegel Trennt nicht mehr die heil'ge Scbaar.

Chor.

Ja, wir sammeln uns am, Strome etc.

V

An den Silberstrom im Leben Schliesst sich unser Pilgerlauf,

Und des Herzens heilig Loben Geht in Wonnejubel auf.

Chor.

Ja, wir sammein uns am Strome etc.