Mrs. Heath, the national president, "go to market—it pays."
Claire was blushing furiously. Of course, everybody would guess that she was unmarried and inexperienced. In reality, her question was already forgotten. The audience was absorbed in watching the butcher carving the hind quarter of the beef.
"You ladies scorn the flank," he explained, as he held up a long thin cut of beef, "but the inside cut, with a pocket to be filled with poultry dressing, makes a fine pot roast. And now for the steaks,—"
Delmonico, porterhouse, sirloin and round—he explained their points clearly, and then a young bride brought up the question:
"What is minute steak?"
"You'll have to ask the chef," replied the butcher, nodding to a stout mustached man on the edge of the crowd. "We thought you might ask questions like this, so we brought him along."
"Minute steak," explained the chef, "is any good cut, without bone, sliced very thin. It
