The same principle which has been advocated in boiling holds good with regard to roasting. If you wish to retain all the juices in the meat, place it close to the fire for five minutes at first, and then remove it to a greater distance until the last five minutes, when it should be brought near the fire again. It is possible, by this method, to roast a joint thoroughly, so that it shall be perfectly well cooked, and yet, when carved, the imprisoned juices shall flow out readily. All meat ought to be well floured and sprinkled with a pinch or two of salt before putting it to the fire, and it should be kept constantly basted with clear dripping. Some things, such as hare, are better basted with milk ; and poultry, or any very small joint, is much improved by being covered with lard or oiled paper. Instead of larding game or poultry, it is often preferable to bard it, i.e. to cover the breast with a thin slice of fat bacon, which may be served up with it as with quails.

We must remember that the object in cooking is to present meat, and indeed all food, to the palate in an agreeable form without changing its composition more than we can help, or losing its nutritive value. Raw meat, quite apart from other objections, is so tough that it would be impossible to masticate or digest enough of it to satisfy hunger, whereas the application of heat is intended to force the juices to expand, thus separating the fibres and making mastication easy and pleasant.

The loss of weight in roasting, especially if the joint be a fat one, is very considerable. As much as 4 lb. 4 oz. have been lost in roasting a joint of 15 lbs. weight in the ordinary manner. Although meat actually loses more of its weight by roasting than by boiling, yet, if no account be taken of the matters extracted, it contains, when roasted, a larger proportion of nutritive elements than the larger mass of boiled meat, and in a given weight is more nutritious. Meat is often baked, and though this method may be harmless and agreeable as a change, it is not such a wholesome form of cooking as roasting.

The primitive manner of baking meat is the only one which ensures it from becoming dry and tasteless, namely, to enclose it in a crust of some sort. The gipsies to this day bake their meat and poultry - we will not inquire how this latter item is added to the bill of fare - in a sort of mud mould or case, covering up feathers and all; and the Indians and Maoris generally cook in the same way. A fowl, or a piece of meat of any sort, is delicious when enclosed in a flour-and-water case - dough, in fact - and baked in the embers of a camp fire. If the meat were put in the fire without this protection, it would simply get burnt

Frying is the simplest, the commonest, and, if properly done, the wholesomest form of cooking food, but it is perhaps the least understood, and more often results in burning the outside of the meat whilst the inside is left raw. To begin with, a clear, smokeless fire is indispensable for frying, and it is equally necessary to have a perfectly clean frying-pan. Of course the best oil, or the best fresh butter, would offer the most perfect conditions of the fat in which anything should be fried ; but good, pure, clear fat, and clarified dripping, make capital substitutes. Cold meat is excellent when lightly fried and served up with yesterday's vegetables and potatoes (also cut up and fried), but the excellence depends entirely on the delicate yet savoury flavouring, the clearness of the fire, and the goodness of the fat in which the frying process is carried on. It is also very important that the fat should be actually boiling. Here again we are met by prejudice, for ninety-nine cooks out of a hundred will allege that they are "respectable women" when asked to use a frimometer or a thermometer, and prefer to go on ascertaining the temperature of their fat by guesswork or by means of a sprig of parsley. It is more economical to roast the flesh of young animals, such as lamb, chicken, veal, or pork, because such flesh contains an undue proportion of albumen and gelatine in the tissues, and these sub-stances will to a great extent be lost in the boiling.

If I had to cook a dish of cutlets and potatoes, or a tender rump-steak and potatoes, this is the way 1 should do it, or, to speak quite truthfully, these are the directions I should give for its being done. First, I must say that whenever it is practicable to use a gridiron in the place of a frying-pan, and to broil meat instead of frying, it should be done. But, at the same time, I have tasted such excellent cutlets served out of a frying-pan, that it shows it is not an invariable rule. It is the attention to small details which makes all the difference in nice cooking, and if persons thoroughly understand the value of these important trifles, they learn to do the thing always that way, and so it becomes no more trouble to them than is the slatternly method which results in grease and cinders, heartburn and disgust. Well, then, let us imagine that we are rich enough to possess a frying-pan and a gridiron, and that our fire, however small, is clear and bright, without a film of smoke, for it is of no use trying to fry or broil unless the fire is in a proper condition. In spite of what has been said in a former place about cooking potatoes in their skins, potatoes for frying must needs be peeled, well washed, and cut rapidly up with a sharp knife into thin slices. Again, they should be thrown into a basin of water for a moment, and then laid on a clean cloth, slice by slice, to be thoroughly dried. All this time the nice, clear fat should have been melting on the fire, and when it is actually boiling throw in the potatoes, keeping the frying-pan frequently moving so that they shall not stick to its bottom. A couple or three minutes ought to crisp them to a beautiful golden brown colour; then skim them swiftly out of the boiling fat, throw them into a large, fine wire sieve (which would be all the better for having been warmed to receive them), sprinkle a pinch of salt over them, and turn them into a very hot dish, every particle of fat having been left behind in the sieve. Although the potatoes have been mentioned first, the meat should really have preceded them in the order of cooking, as it is the easiest to keep hot. If you are going to have cutlets, trim them from the best end of a neck of mutton very neatly. There is no occasion to throw away the scraps; they should either go into the stock-pot, or, if strict economy be necessary, they may afterwards be made into a pudding or pie. The chine-bone must be sawn off, and the seven or eight chops (which are all you will be able to get off a moderate-sized neck of mutton) neatly pared, and only about an inch of bare bone left to each cutlet for a handle. The cutlets should then be sprinkled with a little salt and pepper, and laid for a moment in a dish of oil: then put them on the gridiron, or into the frying-pan, but in this latter case add a little more oil, and broil or fry them for six or seven minutes. They ought by that time to be nicely done, and should be served hot. Beefsteak can be cooked exactly in the same way, only from its larger size the gridiron is more strictly indispensable. A frying-pan is a very serviceable implement in the hands of a skilful manager. I trust she will make it a point of keeping it scrupulously clean, and then she can serve up the cold vegetables left from yesterday in this fashion at a moment's notice. Melt a little fat or butter in your frying-pan, shred an onion into it with a spoonful of chopped parsley, a little salt and pepper, and a sprig of any savoury herb or bit of lemon-peel which comes handy. Then cut up the vegetables - cabbage, turnips, carrots, and so forth - into small pieces, and fry the whole, lightly tossing the contents of your frying-pan all the time, so that they may not get into a burnt fat-soaked mass. On a sudden call for a late supper, such a dish as this forms a capital addition to the cold meat or fried bacon and eggs.

Of all the uses, however, to which a housewife turns her frying-pan, I suppose an omelet is the least in demand, and yet it is at once the cheapest and easiest way in the world to cook eggs with other things. All it requires is vigilance and knack. Don't over-beat your eggs, just whisk them up (three are quite enough for a manageable omelet), whites and all, lightly and swiftly, beat in with them a pinch of salt, a little pepper, some finely chopped parsley, or a teaspoonful of grated cheese, or shredded bacon, or even shredded fish; almost anything mixes well in an omelet, provided it is cut fine enough. Have the frying-pan ready on the fire with butter enough in it to fairly cover its surface when melted, which it should do without browning. Into this clear liquid butter pour the contents of your basin (your eggs, &c), holding the frying-pan with the left hand, and gently stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon in the other. The omelet will set almost immediately, and then the stirring should be discontinued, and the gentle shaking carried on incessantly : the edges being lightly turned up with the wooden spoon every now and then. If you turn your head, or cease shaking for a moment, the omelet will be spoiled. Four minutes should be quite enough to cook the inside thoroughly, and yet leave the outside of a rich, yellowish-brown colour, but the time required to attain this result will entirely depend on the fire. Too fierce a fire will burn the omelet before it has had time to set or become thoroughly cooked, and yet a clear brisk fire is necessary. As soon as it begins to assume the shape of a small plate and the colour of a golden pippin, take your wooden spoon once more and dexterously double it over, serve it in an exceedingly hot dish, and eat it whilst it is still sputtering and frothing. The only things requisite in an omelet are, presence of mind and promptness of action. Timidity and hesitation have ruined many an omelet, and it is better to practise as often as may be necessary, before serving up a failure.

In fritters, the yolks of the eggs and the dissolved butter are beaten into a batter, and the slices of fruit, previously dipped in finely-powdered sugar, dropped into the mixture, to which, by the way, the well-whisked whites of the eggs must be added at the last moment. Then the slices of fruit, with the batter adhering to them, may be placed in the buttered frying-pan for a moment or two just to get lightly cooked, and the pan should be kept well shaken during the process.