was totally unfitted. To overcome this difficulty, Anka hit upon the
simple but very effective expedient of entrusting to her neighbours,
who would later be her guests, the preparing of certain dishes
according to their various abilities and inclinations, keeping
close account in her own shrewd mind of what each one might be
supposed to produce from the materials furnished, and stimulating
in her assistants the laudable ambition to achieve the very best
results. Hence, in generous quantities she distributed flour for
bread and cakes in many varieties, rice and beans and barley, which
were to form the staple portion of the stews, cabbage and beets and
onions in smaller measure--for at this season of the year the
price was high--sides of pork, ropes of sausages, and roasts of
beef from neck and flank. Through the good offices of the butcher
boy that supplied the New West Hotel, purchased with Anka's shyest
smile and glance, were secured a considerable accumulation of shank
bones and ham bones, pork ribs and ribs of beef, and other scraps
too often despised by the Anglo-Saxon housekeeper, all of which
would prove of the greatest value in the enrichment of the soups.
For puddings there were apples and prunes, raisins and cranberries.
The cook of the New West Hotel, catching something of Anka's generous
enthusiasm, offered pies by the dozen, and even the proprietor himself,
learning of the preparations and progress, could think of nothing so
appropriate to the occasion as a case of Irish whiskey. This, however,
Anka, after some deliberation, declined, suggesting beer instead,
and giving as a reason her experience, namely, that "whiskey make
too quick fight, you bet." A fight was inevitable, but it would be
a sad misfortune if this necessary part of the festivities should
occur too early in the programme.

Gradually, during the days of the week immediately preceding the