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also be served.

A good garnish for sautéed chicken is large dice of boletus mushrooms, sautéed in garlic butter; also dice of raw potatoes sautéed in clarified butter, and again fresh tomatoes cut up and sautéed in butter. Egg-plants are also excellent for a garnish.

Sautéed chicken may be baked and served in the cocotte.


Poulet en Casserole Bourgeoise

The chicken is trussed; the breast is covered with strips of bacon and put into a deep, thick saucepan. It is colored in the oven, and when nearly done is transferred to a casserole. It is now moistened with some chicken-stock and a little white wine. This moistening is used in the basting, and after being freed of fat, added to the sauce.

A few minutes before the fowl is done bouquets of fresh vegetables are added to the chicken, in individual heaps, and the chicken is then served, either with a sauce, or else with an addition of butter. It should be carved in sight of the guests.


Chicken Pie

A fowl is cooked (boiled) with flavoring vegetables until done, and is then cut up as for fricassée; the pieces are seasoned with salt and pepper and sprinkled with chopped onions, a few mushroom-buttons and some chopped parsley. The pieces are now put into a pie-dish, legs undermost, some thinly-sliced bacon is added and some potatoes Parisienne (spooned with the special potato spoon). The pie-dish is now filled two-thirds with chicken velouté (chicken-stock thickened with flour and egg-yolks), and a pie crust is laid over all, pressed to the edges of the dish and trimmed off. The crust is slit open (so the steam can escape), it should be painted with egg-yolk, and be baked for one and a half hours in a moderate oven.


Suprême de Volaille Jeanette

Of a poached cold fowl the suprêmes (boneless wing and breast in one piece) are loosened and trimmed to oval shape. They are covered with white chaudfroid sauce, by putting the pieces on a wire tray and pouring the sauce over while still liquid. They are decorated with tarragon leaves.

In a square, flat pan a half-inch layer of aspic is laid. On this slices of goose liver are superimposed (after having been trimmed to the shape of the suprêmes); the suprêmes are now put on top of the fat liver, and then covered with half-melted chicken jelly.

When thoroughly cooled and ready to serve, a square piece is cut out of the now solid jelly around the suprêmes. The suprême is thus served incrusted in a square block of thick jelly; the dish is decorated with greens.

Decoration

(Continued from page 257)

It is to be supposed that when a man gives up the comforts of town apartments and hies him to the country, it is the garden, the outdoors, which lures him.

Why is it, then, that he seems to take particular pains to arrange his garden so that it is about as much his own as Central Park is?

It might give the average man a great deal of pleasure to be able to say to all the passersby on the Mall, "This little bit of the Park belongs to me! I cut that grass, I weed those flower beds in the evening when I come home from the office; and every Saturday afternoon I take the hose and thoroughly soak that bit of lawn there, you may see me at it any week in the summer."

But then, we are not dealing with the fictitious average man, and we firmly believe that many "commuters" wonder deep down in their hearts why it is they get from their gardens so little of the pleasure they anticipated when they came to live out of the city.

Any one who has traveled abroad, has admired and perhaps coveted the gardens of England, France, and Italy. Their charm is undeniable, and thought to be too elusive for reproduction on American soil without the aid of landscape gardeners and a fair-sized fortune.

Just why we, as a nation, are beset by the idea of reproducing instead of originating beautiful gardens is a question apart from this discussion. But as soon as we try to develop, to their fullest extent, the advantages of our climate, and soil, in combination with our daily life as a people, we shall produce gardens which will equal, without necessarily resembling, those of other countries.

In every case we must, however, follow the same procedure which every successful garden is built upon, whether it be in Mesopotamia or in Long Island City. That is, we must study the place, the people, and the circumstances.

The most general fault in American gardens is their lack of privacy.

No one claims that the high walls of Italy and France or the impenetrable hedges of England would invariably suit the climate here. But there are many ways to obtain seclusion without in any way depriving us of much-needed air in summer and sun in winter. One way is by placing the house rationally upon its lot. Our custom has been to invariably build so that we had a "front yard," "back yard," and two side yards, all equally important, equally uninteresting, unbeautiful and useless.

Of course, we have the porch which in a way takes the place of the outdoor living room, always so attractive in foreign gardens. And recently some laudable efforts are being made to incorporate the porch into the house, where it belongs, as a real American institution, instead of leaving it disconsolately clinging to the outside and bearing no resemblance to the house either in shape or detail.

But after all, a porch is a porch, and a garden is a garden, and one does not take the place of the other.

Especially is this true of the tiny property.

If you have only ten feet of ground to spare outside your tiny house, plan it so that every foot contributes to your joy at being in the country. Arrange it so that on a warm summer evening when the porch seems a bit close and dark, you wander out into your garden and sit beneath the stars in quiet as profound as on the Desert of Sahara. And in the winter, let your garden provide a warm corner out of the wind, where on a bright Sunday morning you may sit and blink in the sun.

Once you have got the desire for a room outdoors, a real garden, which is neither flower beds, nor lawns, nor hedges, nor trees, but a place for your comfort, with all these things contributing to its beauty, you will know as by divine inspiration where to put each flower and bush and path. Your planting will be no longer a problem for landscape architects, but a pleasant occupation for yourself and family.

So then will your successful tiny house stand forth in its real garden, an object of pride to the community and a tribute to one man who has refused to be the impossible average, and has dared to build and plant for his own needs.

May he live forever and ever happy in his tiny house!

Polly's Thanksgiving Party By Ella Shannon Bowles

The idea for the party came to Polly one night as she was washing the dinner dishes, and that very evening she waved away the boys' objection that Thanksgiving was a family affair pure and simple.

"I'm not planning to have any one in for dinner," she said, "though there's nothing that would suit me better, if the apartment boasted a larger dining room. But there are three girls in my Sunday School class that can't possibly go home this year, and I've no doubt you boys could find somebody that won't be invited anywhere. Thanksgiving is such a cheerless place in a boarding house! If we ask a few young people in for a party in the evening, it will liven things up a bit for them, and I think it will be pretty good fun for us, don't you?"

In the end Polly had her way, and just a week before Thanksgiving, she sent invitations to three girls and to two boys whom Rupert and Harry suggested.

Polly searched the shops for a card of two-eyed white buttons of the size of ten cent pieces. She carefully sewed a button on the upper part of a correspondence card, added eyebrows, nose and mouth with India ink, copied a body and cap from Palmer Cox's "Brownie Book," painted the drawing brown, and behold, a saucy brownie grinned at her from the invitation. Underneath the picture, she carefully printed a jingle.

"This Thanksgiving Brownie brings a message so gay,
To visit our house on Thanksgiving Day,
To help celebrate with all kinds of good cheer
The 'feast of the harvest' at the end of the year."

The boys took a walk into the country on Thanksgiving morning and came laden with sprays of high-bush cranberries. These, with the bunches of chrysanthemums which they bought, and Polly's fern and palm, gave the small living room a festive appearance.

Assisted by her brothers, Polly served the dinner early. After clearing the dining room table, she placed a pumpkin jack-o-lantern in the center, and arranged around it piles of apples, grapes, and oranges.

After the guests had been introduced to each other, Polly passed each one a paper plate containing a picture, cut and jumbled into small pieces, and a tiny paper of paste and a toothpick. Each girl and boy was asked to put the "pi" together and paste it on the inside of the plate. When arranged, the pictures were found to be of Thanksgiving flavor. "Priscilla at the Wheel," "The Pilgrims Going to Church," "The First Thanksgiving," and others of the same type. To the person making his "pi" first a small and delicious mince pie was awarded.

Pencils and paper were then passed. On one slip was written, "What I have to be thankful for," on the other, "Why I am thankful for it." The slips were collected, mixed up, and distributed again. Each guest was asked to read the first slip handed him with the answer. The result caused much laughter.

This was followed by a modification of the famous "donkey game." Polly had painted a huge picture of a bronze turkey, but minus the tail, and this was pinned to the wall. Real turkey feathers with pins carefully thrust through the quills were handed about, and each guest was blindfolded and turned about in turn. To the one who successfully pinned a feather in the tail was given a turkey-shaped box of candy, and the consolation prize was a copy of "Chicken-licken."

A pumpkin-hunt came next. Tiny yellow and green cardboard pumpkins were concealed about the apartment. The yellow pumpkins counted five and the green two points. At the end of the search a small pumpkin scooped out, and filled with small maple sugar hearts, was presented to the guest having the highest score, and a toy book of, "Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater" was awarded to the unfortunate holding the lowest score.

Polly had determined to keep the refreshments very simple. The day before Thanksgiving she made an easy salad dressing by beating two eggs, adding one-half a cup of cider vinegar, two tablespoonfuls of sugar, one teaspoonful of mustard and one-half a teaspoonful of salt, and a tablespoonful of melted butter. She placed the ingredients in a bowl, set in a dish of water on the front of the stove, and when they thickened she removed it from the fire and thinned with cream. To make sandwiches, she mixed the dressing with minced turkey, added half a fine-chopped pepper, and spread the mixture between dainty slices of bread.

The sugared doughnuts she made by beating two eggs, adding one cup of sugar, one cup of sour milk, three tablespoonfuls of melted butter and flour, sifted with one-half a teaspoonful of soda and two teaspoonfuls of baking powder, to make the mixture thick enough to roll without sticking to the moulding board. They were cut with

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