Dinners and Luncheons, Paul Pierce [the reading list book .TXT] 📗

Patient—"Well, doctor, I think I'd sooner be an aquarium than a cemetery."

A tiny girl of seven gave a dinner party the other day, for which twelve covers were laid, and that number of small maidens sat down to dine. It was a real little girl's dinner, and the little hostess herself presided, sitting at the head of the table. She had been very anxious, in looking forward to it, to do everything as it should be done.

"Mamma," she asked, "shall we say grace?"

"No," said mamma, "it will be a very informal dinner, and I think you need not do that."

That meant one less ceremony to be gone through, and was a relief, but the little lady was anxious to have all her small guests understand it. So, as they were gathered about the table, she explained:

"Mamma says this is such an infernal dinner that we need not have grace today."

Three different waiters at a hotel asked a prim, precise little man at dinner if he would have soup. A little annoyed, he said to the last waiter who asked the question:

"Is it compulsory?"

"No, sir," said the waiter. "I think it's mock turtle."

Mistress—"Now, remember, Bridget, the Joneses are coming for dinner tonight."

Cook—"Leave it to me, mum. I'll do me worst! They'll never trouble yez again!"

Murphy—"Oi tell yez, Flaherty, th' saloon is th' poor mon's cloob. Troth, Oi don't see how he could git on widout it."

Flaherty—"He couldn't. Iv there wor no saloons there'd be no poor min."

A member of the police force came across a boy the other day who was wheeling home a load of oyster cans and bottles, and, curious to know what use the lad could put them to, he made a direct inquiry.

"Going to throw them into our back yard," replied the boy. "I took two loads home yesterday."

"But what do you use them for?"

"I'd just as lief tell," continued the boy, as he spit on his hands to resume hold on the barrow. "We are going to have some relashuns come in from the country. We may not have much to eat, but if they see these cans and bottles and boxes they'll think we've had isters, champagne, figs and nuts till we've got tired of 'em, and are living on bread and taters for a healthy change."

Col. Sam Reed was breakfasting at Delmonico's. After looking over the French menu he said to the waiter:

"You may bring me some eggs blushing like Aurora, and some breeches in the royal fashion, with velvet sauce; and for dessert be sure you bring a stew of good christians, and a mouthful of ladies."

The astonished waiter said:

"Sir, we don't serve such dishes."

"Yes, you do," said the guest, pointing to the bill of fare—"Oeufs a la Aurore—culottes a la royale sacque veloute—compote de bon cretiens—bouchee de dames."

"All right," said the waiter—"ready in two minutes, sir."

"Patrick, you were on a bad spree yesterday."

"Yis, Mr. Ellis, I was. Bless me if I weren't a-layin' in the gutter wid a pig. Father Ryan came along, looked at me, and says says he 'One is known by the company he kapes."

"And did you get up, Patrick?"

"No, but the pig did."

Gladstone was a marvelous conversationalist and particularly alive at dinner parties, where, by the way, in his more vigorous days, he came rightly near monopolizing the conversation. Two well-known men about town who prided themselves on their ability to be interesting at the dinner table were invariably eclipsed when Gladstone was present. No matter what the subject broached, before it had proceeded far, the G. O. M. forged to the front, and by his familiarity with the question, became the focus of all eyes and ears. Tired of being thus overshadowed, the gentlemen referred to hit upon a plan for getting even, at least for the once. Selecting an abstruse and very unfamiliar subject, they delved into the Encyclopædia Britannica and thoroughly posted themselves. The question was one on which scientists differed and so the conspirators took opposite sides, each prepared to maintain his view. At a convenient moment during the next dinner when they met Mr. Gladstone, the subject was sprung and immediately the two disputants went at it, hammer and tongs. For some time the fight raged hotly, no one else venturing to take part in the discussion. The trick was working capitally and the triumphant pair cast congratulating looks at one another. Mr. Gladstone hadn't spoken a word. Finally the hostess, in a momentary lull in the conflict, said: "What are your views about this matter, Mr. Gladstone; which do you think right now?" "There is very little choice," returned the sly old fox, turning with a good natured smile to the disputants, "I made up my mind as to that when I wrote the article on the subject in the Encyclopædia Britannica, which, by the way, gentlemen, I see you have been studying very carefully." There was a moment of embarassing silence and then a roar. The conspirators acknowledged themselves fairly beaten and since then they allow Mr. Gladstone the floor whenever he signifies a wish to occupy it.

The dinner in private house or club where the ladies are at table during the toasts, is perhaps the most trying of all ordeals to the man not blessed with nerve.

Toasts at dinner which are given in honor of some special guest are necessarily of the most informal kind. A bit of interesting personal reminiscence, with as much of the ego eliminated as possible, a good story (always and always the good story) a compliment to the guest of honor a few well chosen words (never fulsome) of praise for host and hostess, and in closing a few lines complimentary to the ladies. This pre-supposes one is expected to give a somewhat extended toast. Ordinarily a story is sufficient. On one point never make a mistake—sit down before your friends have had quite enough of you, never keep on talking until the ladies vote you a bore and the men something more decided.

The host should be the real toastmaster, though his formidable title is concealed under the informal manner in which he draws out his guests. At such a dinner the talks are very short; and generally between courses, as no one can enter on a long dissertation and eat his dinner. Later when the dessert is removed, and the coffee, cigars and liqueurs brought in, the toasts come. If the guest of honor is a traveler the host may start him on his favorite topic by asking: "What do you consider the most dangerous journey you ever took?" Then naturally will follow tales of wrecks, floods, hold-ups, trains missed, traveling in different countries, etc. If the host knows that Jones has the star story and is too modest to assert himself, it is his duty to call on Jones, not in a marked way, but easily, gracefully, helping him along by well-put questions until Jones forgets his embarassment and that he is telling a story.

A man at a formal dinner assigned to "take in" a lady whom he has never met before, should take his conversational cue from her—no Chinese desecration, of course—and thereby avoid pitfalls to which the diffident and embarrassed are often led. Besides, it is woman's admitted privilege to "do all the talking," and she best gives the key note at dinners.

For the informal dinner, be natural, good-natured and jolly. As ready to listen and to laugh heartily at the jokes of others as to talk.

Do not keep silent because you have no spread eagle oration at command, your friends do not expect it. Tell your own interesting experiences, always remembering how tiresome the repetition of the capital "I" becomes.

Avoid telling jokes at the expense of another guest present. This may do at a stag supper, but an enemy may be made by making a friend ridiculous before the ladies.

Make your talk very brief and in telling a story get to the point quickly without dragging in an endless number of uninteresting details.

After you have told your story and made your hit, be content to give others a chance even if you have a host of good stories at command.

If Brown is present do not steal his best story and tell it in his presence; he will not thank you if you do.

Good topics to avoid at a dinner where one does not know the personal history of each guest present, are divorces, jokes on foreigners of any nationality, mixed marriages, politics, religion, in fact anything that could be taken as a personal attack by another guest.

The proposal of a health in an after-dinner speech dates back to mediæval times. At that time the loving cup was used at every banquet. It was filled to the brim with wine and in the center was placed a piece of toasted bread. The cup circulated the table, each one present taking a sip of the wine. When it came back to the host he drained the remaining wine and ate the piece of toast in honor of all the friends assembled at his table.

The ancient Greeks, the Romans, the Assyrians and the Egyptians drank each other's health at dinner, but post-prandial oratory was not adopted until modern times. The Greek toast was, "I salute you, be happy;" that of the Romans, "I drink your health."

It is highly improper for a person to drink to his own health, hence the only thing to do when one's health is being drunk by his friends is for the individual honored to leave his glass alone, and bow his thanks in a dignified manner, rising to talk only when he is called on for a speech.

Perhaps one of the wittiest toasts on record is that of Franklin. After the victories of Washington had made his name well known throughout Europe, Franklin chanced to dine with the French and English ambassadors, when these toasts were drunk. The son of Britain rose and proudly remarked: "England—the sun whose beams enlighten and fructify the remotest corners of the earth."

The Frenchman, glowing with national pride, drunk: "France—the moon whose mild, steady, cheering rays are the delight of all nations; consoling them in darkness and making their dreariness beautiful."

This furnished Franklin with a fine opening and his quaint humor bubbled over in his retort: "George Washington—the Joshua, who commanded the sun and the moon to stand still, and they obeyed him."

Little ter-day and little ter-morrer,
Out o' meal and boun' ter borrer;
Hoe cake an' dab o' dough,
Dash her down an' say no mo'!
Peace at home and pleasure abroad,
Please your neighbor an' serve de Lord.
God bless you.

Well may we ever be,
Ill may we never be;
Here's to the President
And good company.

May health and happiness both be yours,
And fortune smile on all you do;
And we hope you feel like wishing us
The same good things we're wishing you!
—From Royal Blue.

God made man
Frail as a bubble;
God made love,
Love made trouble.
God made the vine,
Was it a sin
That man made wine
To drown trouble in?

May love, like wine, improve as Time advances,
May we always have old wines, old friends and young cares.

'Twas nectar fed
Of old, 'tis said,
Their Junos, Joves, Apollos;
And man may brew
His nectar too,
The rich receipts as follows:
Take wine like this,
Let looks of bliss
Around it well be blended;
Then bring wit's beam
To warm the stream,
And there's your nectar, splendid!
So, wreathe the bowl
With flowers