HOT-POT A LA RUSSE

Press, Volume LXXXVI, Issue 26159, 8 July 1950, Page 6

HOT-POT A LA RUSSE

[By WHIM WHAM] NOTE.—Should the partridges be very large, split them in half; they will then lie in the dish more compactly.—Mrs l Beeton. Take a Small Country or Nation, Choose one with a large but simple Population, Divide in Two, Half for Them and Half for You, Clean, trim, and stuff One Half, using Enough Red Pepper and Russian Spice, Breadcrumbs and Rice. Place in a greased Pan, Broil as fast as you can Until Red on the Outside Another Method may be tried With the Other Half. Take Six Pounds of Good Intentions, mix Into a Stiff Paste, Cover with This, and baste (Add Marshall Sauce :o Taste), Garnish with Sage Counsel, and Slices of cold Cabinet Pudding if to Hand. Take both Halves, while Hot, Place in a Pot With a rich Stock of Old Bones Of Contention among Powers. Simmer for several hours. [Suitable for any number of Powers. Serve Hot or Cold.] * * * A DRAPPIE IN YOUR E'e A minister, especially if he is wearing a clerical collar, is considered unlucky in some parishes in Scotland.—The Rev. W. M. Hendrie, youth director of the Presbyterian Church in a speech to the Navy League. “Late late Yestreen the Meenister stude In his Sunday Claes sae sma’. And weel ye ken, ’tis a black O-men Where Meenisters' Shadows fa’.” “Nay, ’twas nae Meenister ye saw Wi’ his Hat like a Lum* aboon—’Twas nae ither Pairson than Jock MacPhairson Wi’ his Collar on hind Side roon’!” CHORUS: We are na fou, we're nae that fou (And a’ That, and a’ That.) •A chimney. Rare in polite (except Scottish) use. Lang May Thy Lum Reekf +Reek : (of smoke, vapour, perfume, etc.) exhale or emit. See Auld Reekie. * * * WELL, WE ALL HAVE TO LIVE. Good stocks of caustic soda are available in all sizes. A slight reduction in the price of a local pack that is now a well-known brand of this market.-+-Grocery Note in “The Press.”

It’s all right for Some, but—- “ Caustic down again,” snarled the Chief. “Chin up, Sir,” ventured Bertie (later Sir Egbert) Payst-Pott, the youngest Director. ‘‘You ought to take more Soda with it.” “That’s right,” Miss Shiftlock chimed in “Every cloud has an Alka-lining.’ At which we all laughed like a Drain, and even the Chief’s normally severe features relaxed into the suspicion of a smile. “Buy up Lunar Products Corporation!” he rapped out. I gasped—this was the Chief we knew!—but reached obediently for the telephone. “They won’t break me—not if it costs my last million.” he muttered grimly. ... It was incidents such as these, of almost daily occurrence, which made those years with Cosmos Chemicals among the most memorable of my life.