CHAPTER V.
SALADS AND SANDWICHES.
SALADS AND SANDWICHES .-- Probably the most patriotic Englishman will admit that, on the subject of salads, we can learn something from the French.
During the last half-century a great improvement has taken place on this point in this country.

Many years ago it was the fashion to dress an English lettuce, resembling in shape an old umbrella, with a mixture of brown sugar, milk, mustard, and even anchovy and Worcester sauce, and then add a few drops of oil, as if it were some dangerous poison, like prussic acid, not to be tampered with lightly.

The old-fashioned lettuces were so hard and crisp that it was difficult to chew them without making a noise somewhat similar to walking on a shingly beach.

In modern days, however, we have arrived at a stage of civilisation in which, as a rule, we use soft French lettuces instead of the hard gingham-shaped vegetables which somehow or other our grandfathers ate for supper with a whole lobster, seasoned with about half a pint of vinegar, and then slept none the worse for the performance.

The first point for consideration, if we wish to have a good salad, is to have the lettuces crisp and dry.