But civilized man cannot live without cooks!"
This amusin' discovery was made by no less than Lord Lytton—undoubtlessly after his jovial and talented lordship had tried to compose a oyster souffle or the like, all by himself. Lord Lytton become the plot of a tombstone, pro'bly as the result of indigestion, in the annum of 1891. By a odd coincidence, he was a poet by trade and where a poet gets a chance to learn anything about eatin' and cooks is past me! How the so ever, the statement that chefs is born life-savers is as true as a dairy-maid's heart—in a movie—and with your kind permission, I'll endeavor to prove it, if I can only keep you awake.
The chef I have selected for this typical exhibition of what can be done with a typewriter in the wrong hands, is Monsieur Ptomaine Joe. By a timely demonstration of the science of cookin', Ptomaine prob'ly saved the lives of me, Kid Roberts, the exceedin'ly pretty Angela Yerkes, and the exceedin'ly ugly skipper—of the good ship Scofflaw. There's all the ingredients
