A Dialogue between the Dutch Oven, the Sauce-pax, the Spit, the Gridiron, and the Frying-pan, with reflections thereupon, in which all housekeepers and cooks are invited to take an interest.

1973. We were once standing by our scullery, when all of a sudden we heard a tremendous clash and jingle - the Saucepan had tumbled into the Frying-pan: the Frying-pan had shot its handle through the ribs of the Grid-iron; the Gridiron had bestowed a ter rible thump upon the hollow head of the Dutch-oven; and the Spit had dealt a very skilful stroke, which shook the sides of all the combatants, and made them ring out the noises by which we were startled. Musing upon this incident, we fancied that we overheard the following dialogue:-

1974. Frying-Pan

Hallo, Saucepan ! what are you doing here, with your dropsical corporation ? Quite time that you were superannuated; you are a mere meat-spoiler. You adulterate the juices of the best joint, and give to the stomach of our master little else than watery compounds to digest.

1975. Saucepan

Well! I like your conceit! You - who harden the fibre of flesh so much, that there is no telling whether a steak came from a bullock, a horse, or a bear ! - who can't fry a slice of potato, or a miserable smelt, but you must be flooded with oil or fat, to keep your spiteful nature from burning or biting the morsel our master should enjoy. Not only that - you open your mouth se wide, that the soot of the chimney drops in, and frequently spoils our master's dinner; or you throw the fat over your sides, and set the chimney in a blaze.

1976. Spit

Go on! go on! six one, and half-a-dozen the other.

1977. Dutch-oven - Well, Mr. Spit, you needn't try to foment the quarrel. You require more attention than any of us; for if you are not continually watched, and helped by that useful little attendant of yours they call a Jack, your lazy, lanky figure would stand still, and you would expose the most delicious joint to the ravages of the fire. In fact, you need not only a Jack to keep you going, but a cook to constantly baste the joint confided to your care, without which our master would have but a dry bone to pick. Not only so, but you thrust your spear-like length through the best meat, and make an unsightly gash in a joint which otherwise might be an ornament to the table.

1978. Spit

What, Dutch oven, is that you? venerable old sobersides, with a hood like a monk! Why, you are a mere dummy - as you are placed so you remain; there you stand in one place, gaping wide and catching the coals as they fall; if you were not well watched, you would burn the one half, and sodden the other, of whatever you were required to prepare. Bad luck to your impertinence!

1979. Gridiron

Peace! Peace! We all have our merits and our demerits, - At this remark of the Gridiron, there was a general shout of laughter.

1980. Saucepan

Well, I declare, I never thought that I should have my merits classed with those of the miserable skeleton called a Gridiron. That is a joke! A thing with 6ix ribs and a ,tail to compare with so useful a mem ber of the cuisine community as my self! Why you, Gridiron, waste one half of the goodness of the meat in the fire, and the other half you send to the table tainted with smoke, and burnt to cinders! - A loud rattle of approbation went round, as the poor Gridiron fell under this torrent of derision from the Saucepan.

1981. Coining away from the scene if confusion, I ordered the scullerymaid to go instantly and place each of the utensils that lay in disorder upon the ground. into its proper place, charging her to cleanse each carefully, until it should he required for use.

1982. Returning to my library I thought it would form no mean occupation were I to spend a few hours in reflection upon the relative claims of the disputants. I did so, and the following is the result: -