What knows he of eating who only diet knows? Eating today is an empty boast. The more we learn about food the less we cat it. Where are the trenchermen of yesteryear, the playboys of the platter, the twelve-course men, the lads who bit through bones to get at the marrow?

The art of trenchering is dead. To-day, fear prods the doughtiest diner in the liver, dyspepsia hovers over the dumb-waiter and pusillanimity putters in the pantry.