The proper service of wines is a study of itself; but we may say generally that sherry should be poured with the soup, white wines with the fish, champagne with the roast and claret all through the dinner. Choice Burgundy comes in with the game, and a glass of fine Madeira finishes the dinner. Liquors and brandy are offered with or after the coffee. It is the pleasant custom now to offer mineral waters with the wine. Appollinaris has been called the Presidential beverage since the days of Mrs. Hayes, and for those who can not drink wine it is a very good substitute.

Kitchen gossips say that $6,000 worth of unused "stuff" was taken from Vanderbilt's house the day after the ball.

In a corner of those magnificent markets of Paris, called Halles Cen-tralles, you may behold a strange sight every morning between six o'clock and noon. Half a dozen large stalls there, bright with gilding and varnish, luxurious with marble, well-furnished, with lusty shop girls, display the remnant of yesterday's banquet - plates of soup; bits of fish half picked, with the sauce still round them; fragments of pates and sweets; liquefied ices; fragments of game; and costly viands formless, heaped together. These are the leavings of a grand restaurant or a ministerial dinner, sold by the officer to whom such perquisities belong. Too proud is he to touch them himself; but round the counter you will see a few workmen, mostly red - nosed and shaggy, the wives of many more, and a crush of threadbare individuals of that class one would rather see by daylight than by dark. It is not that these broken meats, as far as I have noticed, are particularly cheap. Five pennyworth of beef would give more strength than ten plates of melted ice and sauce congealed. But the worn out stomachs of such people crave high seasoning and strong taste, which the beef would not give them. So they take away in bits of newspaper a franc's worth of wretched dainties, and eat them with a scowl and curse against "the rich."

Pope Leo XIII. daily dines at a cost of 37 cents, on a simple soup, a little bread, a leg or wing of a chicken, six or seven grapes and one pear, with a big glass of the best Marcia.

No. 9 Doyers Street, this city, may aptly be called a hotel for the extremely poor. It is under the management of the Sanitary Aid Society of the Tenth Ward. Boarders are entertained at nominal prices.

The three upper floors are full of bunks, similar to those on a ship, covered over with clean white linen. A charge of ten cents is made for each one of these beds a night, including a warm bath, which is made a necessity by the rules of the institution. Breakfast is furnished for three and five cents, and dinner for ten cents. Each lodger is compelled to register his name, give age, occupation, and tell whether married or single before he can get a ticket for a bed. This is the only institution of its kind in the city, but efforts are being made to establish more as soon as possible. As the house is self-supporting money invested is not lost, but pays a good percentage.

On the bills of fare in New York Italian restaurant's coffee is i cent per cup; steaks, chops and stews, 3 cents; pastry, 3 cents; beer, 2 cents; whisky and brandy, 3 cents. These places are thronged daily by persons of all nationalities.

So-called English chop houses are springing up in all parts of the city of New York. Their popularity increases constantly. Three or four years ago there was only half a dozen good chop houses. Now there are a score or more and they are all of them flourishing. The slapbang, greasy, noisy and rushing restaurant, with its dozens of tables, soiled linen, slouchy negro waiters and miserable kitchen, has given way to near and commodious little chop houses, with well polished tables, quiet waiters and excellent cooks. They sell nothing but chops, steaks, potatoes, beer and ale, and the service is characterized by cleanliness and promptness. The prices are quite reasonable.

The five-cent lunch places in lower Broadway, N. Y., are getting more numerous and more popular. The proprietor of one of them said to a Tribune reporter: "For nearly half a century cheapness in New York, for nearly everything, but especially eating, has been synonymous with dirt. It was my idea in opening this place to make it absolutely clean and neat, the food wholesome and toothsome, and the price so reasonable that I should get not only the multitude who are obliged to buy five-cent lunches, but that other class who pay a higher price to get something clean. I hit it, and so have the other places of this kind. I have enlarged my place twice since coming here, and shall enlarge it again as soon as the present tenants vacate a room next to me."

A movement is now in very successful operation in Bordeaux to supply workingmen with wholesome, well-cooked and substantial meals at a low cost. To this end a number of restaurants have been started in various parts of the city by a certain company, which is backed by the moral support of the medical fraternity, the churches and the health authorities. In the course of a flying trip to Bordeaux last week, writes a correspondent, I visited one of these restaurants. The bill of fare served and the cost per item were as follows: A large plate of vegetable soup, cost two cents; two large slices of bread, two cents; a plate of red haricot beans, two cents; a plate of roast veal, four cents; a plate of rice, one cent; half a bottle of vin ordinaire, four cents. Thus a very fair and liberal dinner - there was no stinting in the amount served - was to be obtained for 15 cents. This might serve as a hint to New York. What can be made a successful business, where almost every article of food is taxed, ought to pay in New York, where meat and nearly all kinds of food are cheaper. Surely a good warm dinner of this character, served at a comfortable table, is a boon to the artisan.