Modern city and town life, with butcher and grocer so conveniently near, has done away to some extent with the cellar of ye olden tyme - dubbed one of the aids to "successful diplomacy," the other being that very necessary adjunct, a good cook. those were truly days of bounteous hospitality and plenty which filled the cellar with barrels of apples of every variety, bins of potatoes, bushels of turnips and onions, barrels of pork "put down," corned beef, kegs of cider turning to vinegar, crocks of pickles and preserves of all kinds, quarters of beef, pans of sausage, tubs of lard and butter, and - oh, fruits and good things of the earth which we now know only as "a tale that is told." but the cellar of to-day accommodates itself to to-day's needs, for though we may still lay in some commodities in quantity, we know the things of to-morrow can be had from the market on comparatively short notice. Nevertheless, the things of to-day - and some other things - must be carefully stowed away, and the deeps of the house made hygienic, for as the cellar, so will the house be also, and to this might be added that as the floor, so will the cellar be also.