This receipt may be depended upon to give satisfaction under any and all conditions, and is compounded of ingredients which exemplary home makers have always at hand. If conscientiously followed failure is impossible. "Its use is a good habit."

STOCKING THE CHINA CUPBOARD

Of its component parts the more substantial ones are perhaps the most easily acquired; not in hit-or-miss, anything-to-get-it-done fashion, but with a view to carrying out some definite idea of table adornment, which is quite the most charming part of the home building. Dishes are more or less mixed up with poesy, which is full of "flowing bowls," "enchanted cups," "dishes for the gods," "flagons of ale," and other appetizing suggestions; and it would be rather a good thing to keep the poetry in mind during the fitting out, that there may be nothing aggressively cheap nor loudly assertive, but each piece harmoniously congenial to its fellows. There need be no hurry—that is one of the delights o' it—and the shopping may mean only "looking," for the good buyer believes that many dishes are to be examined but few chosen—a meat set here, a salad set there, a piece of cut glass somewhere else—here a little and there a little, with time to get acquainted with and enjoy each added treasure as it comes. It is a rare experience, this stocking the china cupboard; one likely to be prolonged through one's entire housekeeping experience, thanks be!

THE GROUNDWORK

There is so much exquisitely patterned and inexpensive china, glass, and porcelain turned out these days that one cannot wander very far afield in buying unless she gets lost among the intricacies of castors—pickle and otherwise—ironstone china, colored and imitation cut glass, and butter dishes with domelike covers. Probably the persons who invented these have gone to join hands with the perpetrator of the red tablecloth. May their works soon follow them! Complete sets of dishes are giving way to the character and diversity imparted to the table by odd pieces and sets for different courses. However, a pretty, inexpensive set of porcelain or china—something which will bear acquaintance, and of some easily replaced standard pattern—is a good beginning, for one rarely starts out with a full equipment of fine china, and even so, there should be something stronger to bear the heaviest brunt of wear. All complete sets contain one hundred and seven pieces, and include one dozen each of dinner, breakfast, tea, soup, and butter plates, and cups and saucers of medium size, three platters of various sizes, vegetable dishes, covered and coverless, and a gravy boat. Tureen, sugar bowl, and cream pitcher, and after-dinner coffees are not included, but may be ordered extra.

The choice in everyday sets lies between plain white—preferably the French china, known as Haviland, which can be bought for $35—and the blue-and-white English porcelain of different makes—Copeland, Trenton, etc., a desirable set of which costs $15 and higher. All-white is entirely blameless from the standpoint of good taste, and has a dainty fineness in the Haviland of which one rarely tires, while it never clashes with anything else on the table. It is so infinitely preferable to cheap, gaudy decorations, so sincerely and honestly what it seems to be, that it has a certain self-respecting quality which one cannot help but admire. Blue-and-white has an attraction which has never died since it had its birth in the original Delft, which is copied so extensively now in Japan and China. And though the porcelain is but an imitation, it is a clever one, and one which leaves little to be desired in decorative value and general effect. The design may strike one at first as being a little heavy, but it improves on acquaintance, and it has been very aptly said that the fact of its having survived enthusiasm should vouch for its worth. Porcelain has a good glaze which does not readily crack or break. Advancing in the scale of cost and fineness, we come to that most beautiful of all chinas—the gold-and-white—which can be had at from $50 a set up to as high as $1,500. The gilding is in coin gold, the effect of richness tempered with chastity being carried through all grades in varying intensity. It "expresses itself beyond expression," and is an honor to any table.

COURSE SETS

When it comes to the purchase of course sets, different tastes can find instant gratification in numberless colorings and designs. Overdecoration and large floral devices must be avoided, but any delicately expressed pattern is good, and here again the gold-and-white seems to fulfill all demands. Soup, salad, tea, butter, and other plates can be had in china from 30 cents apiece up. Articles of this kind, in a standard pattern, may be bought one or two at a time, and added to as ability permits until the set is completed. Any unusual design runs through two years, after which it can be obtained only from the factory. A dozen of each is a good number to aim at, for there will be many occasions which will call out one's whole dish brigade and keep it actively engaged. The old joke about having to wash dishes between courses, and sending the ice cream afloat on a warm plate, really loses its amusing aspect when it becomes an actual experience. Unless the mistress prefers to serve her soup at the table, a tureen is not a necessity, but if used, it must match the soup plates. It is a somewhat fluctuating fashion, out at present. Soup plates are not the great flaring affairs of yore. They either follow the old shape, much reduced, or are in the nature of a large sauce dish. The meat set of platters, plates, and vegetable dishes comes into play at all meals, tea plates can be put to a variety of uses—in fact, many dishes supplement one another at a saving of expense and numbers. If one has a handsome glass bowl sufficiently large, a special salad bowl is not an essential, but a china bowl demands plates to match. Hand-painted china, in sets or odd pieces, is pretty—sometimes—if artistically designed and perfectly executed, but a little goes a long way. Don't be the innocent victim of some well-meaning relative with the china-painting bee. Gently but firmly refuse to sacrifice the beauty of your table to family ties; they ought to be able to stand the strain, but your table cannot.

ODD PIECES

Japanese and Chinese ware is steadily gaining in favor—another instance in which imitation is permissible, for the "real thing" is undoubtedly costly. The quaint conceits in creams and sugars, chocolate pots, bonbon dishes, and plates, with their storks and chrysanthemums, their almond-eyed damsels and mandarins, are always interesting. The fad of odd cups and saucers is fast developing into a fixed fashion, and a good one, which is a particular boon to the giver of gifts on Christmas and other anniversaries when "presents endear absents." Pretty styles in all sizes of different French, German, and English makes can be found at 50 cents and up, with special reductions at sale times. Larger plates, to accommodate both the slice of bread and the butter ball, have taken the place of the tiny butter plate, and should properly match the meat set. A touch of gold with any china decoration gives it a certain character and richness. The chop platter—among the nice-to-haves and bought as an odd piece—belongs in the lightning change category, for it may serve us our chops and peas during the first course, our molded jelly salad during the second, and our brick of ice cream or other dessert during the third. The range in price is from $1 up to $5 and $6 for the choicest designs. Then there are berry sets of a bowl and six saucers, both being turned to account for different uses, and costing in Haviland as low as $1.75. And there must be some small bowls or large sauce dishes for breakfast use, if our housewife is cereally inclined, and a china tile or two on little legs to go under the coffee and tea pots. The china pudding dish, with its tray and its heat-proof baking pan, is a pretty and convenient accessory, saving the bother of veiling the crackled complexion of the ordinary baking dish with a napkin, These cannot be had for less than $3.50 and are made in silver also, minus the tray and plus a cover. The teapot, true symbol of hospitality, has come down from the high estate to which it was formerly created, and is a fat, squatty affair now. Dainty sets of teapot, cream, and sugar matching—a nobby little outfit—are to be had for $2, in gold-and-white, $3, etc. There are after-dinner coffee sets, too. Needless to say there must not be even the slightest acquaintance between fine china or porcelain and the hot oven if you value their glaze.