"Turning to the evening, for what women these matching i in taffeta and one "They make a slim dress of chiffon and a bolero of the matching taffeta They may even have a hem of the taffeta on a bouffant gown of the chiffon, using quite an amount of yardage... which is the kind of gown silk merchants like women to wear! And how becoming the I bodice with narrow shoulder strap, and then the slim hips and fullflowing skirts." can Women's Club. Now, the Economic Department has introduced the idea of cultivating the art of eating in different languages, and with this end in view, members are meeting from time to time and trying the dishes of different nations, with the hope, it is supposed, of furthering education in matters dietetic.
I am all for this, and think it an excellent idea—so broadening, if you get what I mean. If our forbears were really correct, though. when they laid down the warning that one man's meat was another ian's poison, we can only hope that the danger does not apply to women, or that our American enthusi go into this with their eyes, as their mouths pen. But, our friends become Laplanders for a luncheon, and take courses in blubber and kerosene oil, I shall not be of the party, I hope.
Ferther, I am intrigued to know who will prescribe if, after eating in twenty different languages, we all get twenty different kinds, of stomach-ache!
To foster broader minds and help ihe brotherhood of nations.
Our women make approach by way of international rations: They chew in French, and sip in Dutch, and swallow in Malay, While gastric juices set to work all passions to allay, Spaniards they are prone ug rather nettled, ish of onions, and the matter settled slice of Yorkshire pudding and the British are O.K..
And the French become blood-brothers when with snails they are aufait. Where Eden fails to soothe, and foster happier relations, Our women do it by a Gastronomic
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.