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diff --git a/43983-h/43983-h.htm b/43983-h/43983-h.htm index 1c2d4ff..9dd74ab 100644 --- a/43983-h/43983-h.htm +++ b/43983-h/43983-h.htm @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> <title> The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wanted: a Cook, by Alan Dale. @@ -69,45 +69,7 @@ table { </style> </head> <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wanted: A Cook, by Alan Dale - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Wanted: A Cook - Domestic Dialogues - -Author: Alan Dale - -Release Date: October 19, 2013 [EBook #43983] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WANTED: A COOK *** - - - - -Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from -scanned images of public domain material from the Google -Print archive. - - - - - - -</pre> - +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43983 ***</div> <hr class="chap" /> @@ -203,7 +165,7 @@ shone. It was no mere thin veneer, to be worn off by a too brutal contact with the rough edges of the world. It was an ingrained polish. She adored the classics. Other girls would sit down and pore over the Sarah-Jane romances of the hour. My Letitia liked Virgil. In French she -was fearfully familiar with Molière and Racine. In German she coquetted +was fearfully familiar with Molière and Racine. In German she coquetted with Schiller in the most delightful manner. She knew most of the students' readings of Shakespeare. In fact, she fascinated me by her arch refinement.</p> @@ -358,7 +320,7 @@ to the position of the furniture. In front of the fireplace—where there would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> never be any fire, as everything was steam-heated—we placed the tiger-rug, with the real tiger-head, that Aunt Julia gave us. It was rather dark by the fireplace, as a bookcase, a what-not, a dear little -<i>tête-à-tête</i> chair and a "cosy corner" were in its vicinity and we +<i>tête-à -tête</i> chair and a "cosy corner" were in its vicinity and we always fell over the tiger's head. It was most amusing at first. I laughed when it brought Letitia down. Letitia laughed when she saw me prone. But one tires so quickly of innocent pleasure! The last time we @@ -618,7 +580,7 @@ so neat and attractive in a plain black dress, buttoned down the front, and a white cap—something fluffy and lacey—a wide, stiff, white collar and pretty cuffs. I shall dress Anna Carter like that. I have quite made up my mind to it. Oh, Archie," she went on rapturously, "don't you think -that the <i>bonnes</i> in Paris—you see them in the Champs Elysées, and +that the <i>bonnes</i> in Paris—you see them in the Champs Elysées, and everywhere—look perfectly lovely in the caps with the long satin ribbons trailing to the ground?"</p> @@ -825,7 +787,7 @@ captivating.</p> was somebody there to snapshot us. My wife, with her blonde hair beautifully arranged, and her soft, pink silk draperies, with the white swirls of chiffon, was a vision of loveliness; and beside her, in my -immaculate white waistcoat and admirable <i>piqué</i> shirt, I afforded a +immaculate white waistcoat and admirable <i>piqué</i> shirt, I afforded a sympathetic contrast.</p> <p>The dining-room, with its green burlap and handsome furniture, was @@ -848,12 +810,12 @@ remember these funny little wooden dishes. And—what's in that paper parcel?"</p> <p>The paper parcel, by the loaf of bread, had escaped our notice. Letitia -opened it, and revealed an immense piece of Gruyère cheese, very hole-y, +opened it, and revealed an immense piece of Gruyère cheese, very hole-y, and appetizing looking, and moist, but appearing to lack a cheese dish, and the necessary table equipment.</p> <p>"What a strange way of laying a table!" I remarked rather gloomily, -feeling decidedly small in my satin-lined dinner-coat, and <i>piqué</i> +feeling decidedly small in my satin-lined dinner-coat, and <i>piqué</i> shirt-front.</p> <p>"It is rather like camping out," said Letitia, in a perplexed voice, @@ -894,7 +856,7 @@ been embarrassing to have had Anna hovering around, passing things."</p> <p>Although it occurred to me that Anna would have found very few things to pass, I did not say so. My mind had righted itself, and I was enjoying myself. The bread was fresh and appetizing. Never had I eaten so much -bread, and with the hunks of Gruyère cheese I felt almost like a +bread, and with the hunks of Gruyère cheese I felt almost like a day-laborer. All I needed was a clasp-knife and a red handkerchief. I mentioned this to Letitia, and we both laughed so heartily that we forgot everything but our mirth.</p> @@ -905,7 +867,7 @@ forgot everything but our mirth.</p> her fantasy.</p> <p>It really was very jolly. I don't believe that we could have been any -jollier had there been ten courses, winding up with a <i>parfait au café</i> +jollier had there been ten courses, winding up with a <i>parfait au café</i> and a <i>demi-tasse</i>. Instead of these, we finished our dinner with the remainder of the pickles and a nice glass of cool water. Letitia drank my health and I drank hers. We clinked glasses in the continental @@ -916,7 +878,7 @@ such confession. Yet there was a something lacking—an indescribable finishing touch. The delicatessen dinner undoubtedly lacked a finishing touch. It was all beginning. The appearance of the table after dinner was even more eccentric than we had found it at first sight. The empty -wooden dishes, the paper that had held the Gruyère, and the two mere +wooden dishes, the paper that had held the Gruyère, and the two mere plates, had no suggestion of rollicking dissipation. Nor did they even suggest an overweening domesticity.</p> @@ -987,7 +949,7 @@ see?"</p> discovered that half a loaf was indeed better than no bread. I cut the crust in two and nobly gave Letitia the larger piece—nobly, but I am bound to say, enviously. Once more I felt relieved that there were no -camera fiends to intrude upon our privacy. Letitia, in her <i>décolleté</i> +camera fiends to intrude upon our privacy. Letitia, in her <i>décolleté</i> pink silk gown, eating dry bread with a famished expression, seemed unconventional. So did I, as I buried my teeth in the fresh, crisp crust. There was no butter. Had there been butter,—well, we should @@ -1162,7 +1124,7 @@ digestions, might call niggledy-piggledy. In fact, I have no intention of so doing. It has long been my idea that dinner is not so much a mere matter of material indulgence, as of artistic communion, to which food is an accompaniment. The fact that the very best music, cruelly -harmonized, must distress—that Melba, Calvé, and Nordica warbling to a +harmonized, must distress—that Melba, Calvé, and Nordica warbling to a discordant accompaniment, would produce nausea—can certainly need no discussion. It is a fact that is self-evident. It has an Euclidian Q.E.D-ness that is instantly apparent.</p> @@ -1171,7 +1133,7 @@ Q.E.D-ness that is instantly apparent.</p> men and treat myself each day to a choice luncheon in town. That has always seemed to me to be a greedy process. Better—far better is it—to return to one's home at night, hungry as a hunter, with an appetite for -healthful food, rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> than an abnormal craving for <i>suprême de +healthful food, rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> than an abnormal craving for <i>suprême de volaille</i>. Don't you think so? I intended to save myself up for Letitia—to accumulate hunger-pangs, and bring them to her table for artistic treatment. My wife fully agreed with me, and although I brought @@ -1446,7 +1408,7 @@ how to be refined and inexpensive at the same time."</p> <p>"Certainly. You are quite right, Letitia. Go on."</p> <p>"As <i>hors d'oeuvres</i>," she continued, "we will have olives and <i>anchois -à l'huile</i>. That is quite enough for a little home dinner. You write it +à l'huile</i>. That is quite enough for a little home dinner. You write it all in English for Anna as I read it to you. Here, take this piece of paper and pencil, dear."</p> @@ -1454,10 +1416,10 @@ paper and pencil, dear."</p> <p>"For soup," she went on, "I shall have things that sound really much better than they are, as I don't want to confuse Anna. Just two soups, -Archie, <i>consommé julienne</i>, and <i>crème d'asperges</i>. I did think of +Archie, <i>consommé julienne</i>, and <i>crème d'asperges</i>. I did think of <i>petite marmite</i>, but there is just a chance that Anna might fail at it, as even in Paris none but the finest <i>chefs</i> really succeed with <i>petite -marmite</i>. So just put down <i>consommé julienne</i>, and <i>crème d'asperges</i>."</p> +marmite</i>. So just put down <i>consommé julienne</i>, and <i>crème d'asperges</i>."</p> <p>"Beef soup with vegetables. Cream of asparagus," I wrote. "Don't you think, Letitia, that one soup would have been enough—one thoroughly @@ -1466,22 +1428,22 @@ artistic and satisfactory soup?"</p> <p>"No, Archie," she responded with some asperity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> "I hate pinning people down to one thing—taking a tailor-like measure of their tastes, as it were. Doesn't it all sound horrid in English?" she queried with a laugh. -"One might really fancy a little <i>consommé julienne</i>, whereas beef soup +"One might really fancy a little <i>consommé julienne</i>, whereas beef soup with vegetables sounds absolutely tin-can-ny, and red-handkerchief-y."</p> <p>I thought of Letitia at the restaurant, just one hour previously, and realized what absolute hunger can do for a lissome little lady.</p> -<p>"Just one <i>entrée</i>, Archie,"' said she, "merely <i>homard naturel</i>. -Everybody likes it, and I prefer to class it as an <i>entrée</i>. I did think -of having it <i>à la Newburg</i>, but it is a bit too heavy, don't you think, +<p>"Just one <i>entrée</i>, Archie,"' said she, "merely <i>homard naturel</i>. +Everybody likes it, and I prefer to class it as an <i>entrée</i>. I did think +of having it <i>à la Newburg</i>, but it is a bit too heavy, don't you think, dear? I don't want our dinner to be a foody affair—"</p> <p>"Like that we have just finished," I interposed thoughtfully.</p> <p>"No," she agreed rather reluctantly. "We were both disgracefully hungry, and—and—you needn't keep discussing that meal, for it was a meal, and -<i>not</i> a dinner. Now, write down, please, as <i>entrée</i>, <i>homard naturel</i>."</p> +<i>not</i> a dinner. Now, write down, please, as <i>entrée</i>, <i>homard naturel</i>."</p> <p>"Natural lobster," emerged from my pencil tip.</p> @@ -1499,7 +1461,7 @@ seemed so arduous.</p> <p>Letitia understood. "You see, it's all due to the coarseness of the English language," she insisted, "and you must remember that you are Englishing it for Anna only. I wonder," she added pensively, "if Anna -would make us some of those <i>soufflé</i> potatoes—you know, Archie, those +would make us some of those <i>soufflé</i> potatoes—you know, Archie, those things that are all blown out, and that seem like eating fried air. They are most delicate. We used to have them every Sunday at the <i>pension</i>, in the Avenue du Roule. However, I won't tax the girl. Perhaps she may @@ -1509,7 +1471,7 @@ to see that we really know what good living is. I shall leave the potatoes to her."</p> <p>"We may as well give her a chance," I agreed. "Personally, I would just -as soon have the potatoes <i>maître d'hôtel</i>. It is very likely that Anna +as soon have the potatoes <i>maître d'hôtel</i>. It is very likely that Anna will prefer that method, as it is more usual."</p> <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> @@ -1612,9 +1574,9 @@ disposition of the colored people—is peculiar, Archie. When we have quite settled down, I shall study Anna, psychologically."</p> <p>"In the meantime, dear," I said, airily jocular, "let us hope that the -<i>crème d'asperges</i> won't be too psychological."</p> +<i>crème d'asperges</i> won't be too psychological."</p> -<p>Letitia looked a picture in blue <i>crêpe de chine</i>, with her beautiful +<p>Letitia looked a picture in blue <i>crêpe de chine</i>, with her beautiful neck and shoulders emerging from one of those spidery lace effects that render the masculine pen impotent. Her <i>trousseau</i> contained so many evening dresses that one might have imagined that our entire life was to @@ -1732,7 +1694,7 @@ seem appropriate, but was nevertheless neat and well-done.</p> <p>The <i>hors d'oeuvres</i> passed off admirably. Letitia was lively, Mr. Tamworth was wonderfully loquacious, and I sat and reveled in their clever encounters of wit. Letitia and I scarcely touched the olives, and -the <i>anchois à l'huile</i>, but Mr. Tamworth seemed hungry, and partook of +the <i>anchois à l'huile</i>, but Mr. Tamworth seemed hungry, and partook of them as though there were nothing to follow. Then Letitia touched a little bell, and after what seemed an eternity the younger Miss Carter appeared. I could not help gasping when I saw her. She wore a @@ -1743,11 +1705,11 @@ that she was flushed but endeavoring to overcome her vexation. Tamworth's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> gaze appeared to be riveted upon the picture of "Children at Play."</p> -<p>"Will you take <i>consommé julienne</i>, or <i>crème d'asperges</i>?" asked +<p>"Will you take <i>consommé julienne</i>, or <i>crème d'asperges</i>?" asked Letitia, nervously fingering her dinner-card, and trying to smile in an unconcerned way upon Mr. Tamworth.</p> -<p>Mr. Tamworth selected the <i>crème d'asperges</i>; so did Letitia and I. My +<p>Mr. Tamworth selected the <i>crème d'asperges</i>; so did Letitia and I. My wife whispered to the Zulu in yellow: "Asparagus soup for everybody," rather anxiously, and then turning to our guest tried to think of something to say. I say, tried to think, because, at that moment, voices @@ -1789,12 +1751,12 @@ everything in it but soup. It approached the spoon with glutinous reluctance and appeared to be begging to be cut with a knife and put quickly out of its misery.</p> -<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry about the <i>crème d'asperges</i>," Letitia murmured, her +<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry about the <i>crème d'asperges</i>," Letitia murmured, her lips parched, and a fever spot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> on each cheek, "I suppose that she didn't understand."</p> <p>"This is delicious, Mrs. Fairfax," said Arthur Tamworth nobly, "there is -nothing I like better than good <i>consommé julienne</i>. I really prefer it +nothing I like better than good <i>consommé julienne</i>. I really prefer it to the other."</p> <p>We did not sip our soup, but we worked at it. It tasted like boiled @@ -1914,9 +1876,9 @@ Conversation, which should be so serviceable as a stop-gap, failed us completely. All we could see was a sort of coal-black chest-protector on a large dish, and some boiled potatoes swimming in water on another.</p> -<p>"She didn't <i>soufflé</i> the potatoes," murmured Letitia tremulously.</p> +<p>"She didn't <i>soufflé</i> the potatoes," murmured Letitia tremulously.</p> -<p>"They are not even <i>maître d'hôtel</i>," I suggested feebly.</p> +<p>"They are not even <i>maître d'hôtel</i>," I suggested feebly.</p> <p>"You see," said Letitia apologetically, as I hacked at the chest-protector furiously, "Anna is in such a hurry to get to her @@ -2065,7 +2027,7 @@ note at moments of calamity and distress. Then I followed Letitia to the dining-room, where there was disorderly testimony to the accuracy of her information. Nothing even suggested breakfast. In fact, the remains of last night's parody on dinner confronted us and evidently declined to -seek oblivion. Letitia looked aghast at the débris, but as I had just +seek oblivion. Letitia looked aghast at the débris, but as I had just left myself enough time to dally with the matutinal bacon and tea, I could not repress my extreme annoyance. I could not—and I did not.</p> @@ -2173,7 +2135,7 @@ at One-Hundred-and-Fifty-fifth Street—singing snatches of song—muttering to herself.' The singing appears to point to Anna, don't you think, dear? Poor girl! Perhaps she was an idiot, after all, and we have been thinking such cruel things of her, just because she couldn't -grapple with <i>crème d'asperges</i> and <i>bifsteck aux pommes</i>. Let us see: +grapple with <i>crème d'asperges</i> and <i>bifsteck aux pommes</i>. Let us see: 'She fought desperately with the police officer—burst into fiendish laughter—threw back her veil, revealing dazzling beauty, dark hair, and face of almost appalling pallor—' That can't be Anna. I suppose that @@ -2566,7 +2528,7 @@ Castle."</p> emitted a fragrant odor. She set it down with a heavy sigh. I noticed a tear trickling down her cheek, and so did Letitia, for I saw my wife's face grow serious. It was very good stew, indeed. If we could have -called it a <i>ragoût</i>, we should have felt more at ease. It was a stew, +called it a <i>ragoût</i>, we should have felt more at ease. It was a stew, however, and, with the best of intentions, it was impossible even to think of it as anything else.</p> @@ -3144,7 +3106,7 @@ way to the gloomy desolation of the public resort. Cheek-by-jowl with other unfortunates, in whom it is hope<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> to discover an interest—for altruism is not born until noon, and mere selfishness monopolizes the morning hours—the meal is a detestable torture, worthy of a place in -the catalogue of mediæval horrors.</p> +the catalogue of mediæval horrors.</p> <p>Yet Letitia and I came to it. We came to it next morning. There were no warm slippers for me; there was no loose dressing-gown for Letitia. We @@ -3184,7 +3146,7 @@ unguessed egg, but I was in a thoroughly perverse mood. I watched her stolidly as she dipped in her spoon, stirred up the contents, and transferred a portion of them to her mouth. Nothing happened. She did not change color and I realized that all was well. For in the case of -the restaurant egg: <i>Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte</i>.</p> +the restaurant egg: <i>Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte</i>.</p> <p>The tea tasted like boiled hay. It was called English breakfast tea, probably because the English would never think of drinking it, and if @@ -3422,7 +3384,7 @@ London and New York, but you don't hear so much about it, because it is ugly—like English plum pudding and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> American baked beans. No people can be really wicked who have invented the Duval restaurants. Compare the light-hearted, cheerful, exhilarating, comfortably-stomached Parisians, -sitting outside their <i>cafés</i> and sipping their <i>eaux sucrées</i>, with the +sitting outside their <i>cafés</i> and sipping their <i>eaux sucrées</i>, with the greedy English, absorbing stodgy buns and dingy lemonade, and with the criminal Americans, assimilating poisonous ice-creams, and destroying their mucous membranes with odious candies."</p> @@ -4177,7 +4139,7 @@ Holy Grail."</p> <p>"Still, they might sneak a cook in," I insisted with irony. "I wouldn't put them past it. Everything is adapted, nowadays, and grand opera -artists would lend themselves so easily to the rôles of cooks. However, +artists would lend themselves so easily to the rôles of cooks. However, <i>Parsifal</i> seems safe. There is less risk about it than anything else. To be sure, Wagner is rather stupefying, and you remember, dear, that we had our first quarrel after hearing <i>Siegfried</i>. It made us both so @@ -4263,7 +4225,7 @@ so did the typists and clerks. It occurred to me that I might utilize a half-hour or so by working upon my <i>Lives of Great Men</i>, the thread of which I had lost. I was hopelessly out of tune with lives of great men. Lives of great women—the great women of the kitchen—had lured me -astray. Goethe was obscured by Mrs. Potzenheimer; Molière lurked beneath +astray. Goethe was obscured by Mrs. Potzenheimer; Molière lurked beneath the shade of Birdie Miriam McCaffrey. I found it quite impossible to concentrate my thoughts. They were diffuse, and unresponsive. They wobbled; and I abandoned my task. Instead, I donned my evening clothes, @@ -4571,7 +4533,7 @@ out of doors.</p> <p>"And I particularly told her," said Aunt Julia emphatically, "that the main thing was to keep the place spick-and-span. I made more of a point of that than I did of the cooking. Healthy young people don't want a lot -of messy '<i>à la</i>' dishes, but they do want immaculate living rooms."</p> +of messy '<i>à la</i>' dishes, but they do want immaculate living rooms."</p> <p>"Oh, Aunt Julia—" Letitia began argumentatively.</p> @@ -4645,7 +4607,7 @@ York woman who gets married doesn't want cooking, or housekeeping, or children, or the comradeship of a man. She wants diamonds for her ears, silks for her back, furs for her shoulders. She'd sooner live in an apartment that has a palatial entrance, and dark, airless cubby-holes -for rooms; she'd sooner go and dine at a <i>table d'hôte</i> restaurant than +for rooms; she'd sooner go and dine at a <i>table d'hôte</i> restaurant than order her own dinner at home; she'd sooner pant in impossible waists and flaunt herself before the world as some odious 'Gibson' freak, than stay at home in something loose, and have healthy children easily."</p> @@ -4700,7 +4662,7 @@ literature," I asserted stoutly; "I don't believe in it."</p> <p>"What you believe in is of no consequence, Archibald," she declared, rising suddenly, as another dusty spot dawned upon her vision. "You can put on your things, my boy, and go to your office. I take charge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> I -guarantee you a dinner to-night—no sticky <i>à la</i> affair, but something +guarantee you a dinner to-night—no sticky <i>à la</i> affair, but something that will appeal to a healthy appetite. Go down-town, and leave Letitia alone with me. I promise you that I shan't ask her to do anything. She can read the classics, if she likes, as long as she doesn't read 'em @@ -4768,7 +4730,7 @@ considerate and indulgent with her cooks if they had only permitted it. Why, she had even hinted at her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> intention of giving Birdie Miriam her low-neck, white chiffon bodice, in a week or two, when she had no more use for it. Fool that I was! I had argued with Letitia upon the -incongruity of presenting Mrs. McCaffrey with a <i>décolleté</i> waist, and +incongruity of presenting Mrs. McCaffrey with a <i>décolleté</i> waist, and had quite vexed myself. I had told Letitia that I couldn't possibly eat stew, if a low-neck cook brought it in. It was so unnecessary, for Birdie Miriam had departed long before the gift was ready for her @@ -4974,7 +4936,7 @@ retreat after the receipt of those presents."</p> <p>"Don't be so snappy, Archie," retorted Letitia peevishly. "I am merely trying to throw light upon the situation. We ought to do something. What -do you say to mentioning matinée tickets once a week?"</p> +do you say to mentioning matinée tickets once a week?"</p> <p>"Or souvenirs if she runs for a hundred nights," I suggested gloomily.</p> @@ -5264,7 +5226,7 @@ looked more unlike a clean slate than ever.</p> <p>"What shall I say to her, Archie?" asked Letitia, turning over the pages of her book, as I tried to rescue a block of meat from the cold fat in which it lurked. "Here is a chapter on dinner. 'I am very hungry,' '<i>Jag -är myckel hungrig.</i>' Rather pretty, isn't it? Hark at this: '<i>Kypare gif +är myckel hungrig.</i>' Rather pretty, isn't it? Hark at this: '<i>Kypare gif mig matsedeln och vinlistan.</i>' That means: 'Waiter, give me the bill of fare, and the list of wines.'"</p> @@ -5278,7 +5240,7 @@ She was fascinated with the slovenly girl, who stood around and gaped at her Swedish.</p> <p>"Gerda," said Letitia, with her eyes on the book, "<i>Gif mir apven senap -och nägra potäter</i>." And then, as Miss Lyberg dived for the drowned +och nägra potäter</i>." And then, as Miss Lyberg dived for the drowned potatoes, Letitia exclaimed in an ecstasy of joy, "She understands, Archie, she understands. I feel I am going to be a great success. <i>Jag tackar</i>, Gerda. That means 'I thank you.' <i>Jag tackar.</i> See if you can @@ -5291,7 +5253,7 @@ prefer a delicatessen dinner to this."</p> <p>"'Pray, give me a piece of venison,'" read Letitia, absolutely disregarding my mood. "'<i>Var god och gif mig ett stycke vildt.</i>' It is -almost intelligible, isn't it dear? '<i>Ni äter icke</i>': you do not eat."</p> +almost intelligible, isn't it dear? '<i>Ni äter icke</i>': you do not eat."</p> <p>"I can't," I asserted mournfully, anxious to gain Letitia's sympathy.</p> @@ -5316,9 +5278,9 @@ things and go out and have dinner. Better late than never."</p> surroundings. As I concluded my remarks she looked up and exclaimed, "How very funny, Archie. Just as you said 'Better late than never,' I came across that very phrase in the list of Swedish proverbs. It must be -telepathy, dear. Better late than never,' '<i>Battre sent än aldrig</i>.' +telepathy, dear. Better late than never,' '<i>Battre sent än aldrig</i>.' What were you saying on the subject, dear? Will you repeat it? And do -try it in Swedish. Say '<i>Battre sent än aldrig</i>'."</p> +try it in Swedish. Say '<i>Battre sent än aldrig</i>'."</p> <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> @@ -5342,10 +5304,10 @@ perfectly, for I shall be able to talk with her. Oh, Archie, do be agreeable. Can't you see that I am having great fun? Don't be such a greedy boy. If you could only enter into the spirit of the thing, you wouldn't be so oppressed by the food question. Oh, dear! How important -it does seem to be to men. Gerda, <i>hur gammal är ni</i>?"</p> +it does seem to be to men. Gerda, <i>hur gammal är ni</i>?"</p> <p>The maiden sullenly left the room, and I felt convinced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> that Letitia -had Swedishly asked her to do so. I was wrong. "<i>Hur gammal är ni?</i>" +had Swedishly asked her to do so. I was wrong. "<i>Hur gammal är ni?</i>" Letitia explained, simply meant, "How old are you?"</p> <p>"She evidently didn't want to tell me," was my wife's comment, as we @@ -5370,7 +5332,7 @@ too engrossed with my studies to note the deficiencies of dinner. But do remember that I pleaded with her for a Swedish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> meal. The poor thing did what I asked her to do. Our dinner was evidently Swedish. It was not her fault that I asked for it. To-morrow, dear, it shall be different. We -had better stick to the American régime. It is more satisfactory to you. +had better stick to the American régime. It is more satisfactory to you. At any rate, we have somebody in the house, and if our five advertisements had brought forth five hundred applicants we should only have kept one. So don't torture yourself, Archie. Try and imagine that @@ -5400,7 +5362,7 @@ muffled.</p> memorizing it all I shall be quite at home with the language. In fact, dear, I think I shall always keep Swedish cooks. Hark at this: 'If the wind be favorable, we shall be at Grothenburg in forty hours.' '<i>Om -vinden är god, sa äro vi pa pyrtio timmar i Goteborg.</i>' I think it is +vinden är god, sa äro vi pa pyrtio timmar i Goteborg.</i>' I think it is sweetly pretty. 'You are seasick.' 'Steward, bring me a glass of brandy and water.' 'We are now entering the harbor.' 'We are now anchoring.' 'Your passports, gentlemen.'"</p> @@ -5412,7 +5374,7 @@ town' is most interesting, Archie. Of course, it must be a Swedish town. Mr. Muller, the chancellor?' 'To-morrow morning, I wish to see all the public buildings and statues.' '<i>Statyerna</i>' is Swedish for statues, Archie. Are you listening, dear? 'We will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> visit the Church of the Holy -Ghost, at two, then we will make an excursion on Lake Mälan and see the +Ghost, at two, then we will make an excursion on Lake Mälan and see the fortress of Vaxholm.' It is a charming little book. Don't you think that it is a great improvement on the old Ollendorff system? I don't find nonsensical sentences like 'The hat of my aunt's sister is blue, but the @@ -5599,7 +5561,7 @@ cook—should drive us to these abysmal depths.</p> <p>Letitia made no feint at Ovid. I simply declined to breathe the breath of <i>The Lives of Great Men</i>. She read a sweet little classic called "The Table; How to Buy Food, How to Cook It, and How to Serve It," by -Alessandro Filippini—a delightful <i>table-d'hôte</i>-y name. I lay back in +Alessandro Filippini—a delightful <i>table-d'hôte</i>-y name. I lay back in my chair and frowned, waiting until Letitia chose to break the silence. As she was a most chattily inclined person on all occasions, I reasoned that I should not have to wait long. I was right.</p> @@ -5715,7 +5677,7 @@ comfort me.</p> <p>"You've no idea what hundreds of ways there are of cooking eggs, Archie," she said. "Do listen to me, dear. I'm trying so hard to be domesticated, and I do so want to please you. Don't let cook come -between us. Here's a recipe for eggs <i>à la reine</i> that reads most +between us. Here's a recipe for eggs <i>à la reine</i> that reads most charmingly. Are you listening, Archie?"</p> <p>Letitia came over to me, and kissed me, and smoothed my hair, and @@ -5724,20 +5686,20 @@ pacified. At another time, I should not have allowed her to apologize. But as there were eight obstreperous women in our kitchen and Letitia didn't object—well, I thought the apology was not out of place.</p> -<p>"How to make eggs <i>à la reine</i>," read Letitia lightly. "You prepare +<p>"How to make eggs <i>à la reine</i>," read Letitia lightly. "You prepare twelve eggs as for the above."</p> <p>"What's 'as for the above'?" I asked.</p> -<p>"Let me see. Ah, yes. 'As for the above' means as for eggs <i>à la -Meyerbeer</i>. To make eggs <i>à la reine</i>, you prepare twelve eggs as though -for eggs '<i>à la Meyerbeer</i>.' It's simple."</p> +<p>"Let me see. Ah, yes. 'As for the above' means as for eggs <i>à la +Meyerbeer</i>. To make eggs <i>à la reine</i>, you prepare twelve eggs as though +for eggs '<i>à la Meyerbeer</i>.' It's simple."</p> -<p>"But we don't know how to make eggs '<i>à la Meyerbeer</i>'," I protested, +<p>"But we don't know how to make eggs '<i>à la Meyerbeer</i>'," I protested, thinking of the <i>pons asinorum</i> in Euclid that had caused me bitter anguish.</p> -<p>"To make eggs '<i>à la Meyerbeer</i>'," read Letitia, "you butter a silver +<p>"To make eggs '<i>à la Meyerbeer</i>'," read Letitia, "you butter a silver dish, and break into it twelve fresh eggs—"</p> <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> @@ -5797,7 +5759,7 @@ kidneys are waiting, Letitia."</p> White broth. There's half a page about it. I—I really don't believe that this flat is large enough to hold all the ingredients for this dish. You place in a large stock-urn, on a moderate fire, a good heavy -knuckle of fine white veal with all the <i>débris</i>, or scraps of meat, +knuckle of fine white veal with all the <i>débris</i>, or scraps of meat, cover fully with water,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> add salt, carrots, turnips, onions, parsley, leeks, celery. Boil six hours—"</p> @@ -5806,21 +5768,21 @@ leeks, celery. Boil six hours—"</p> <p>Letitia was equally dismayed. "I declare I almost forget. Let me see: The white broth was to be mixed with the mirepoix; the mirepoix was for the <i>sauce Espagnole</i>; the <i>sauce Espagnole</i> was for the <i>Perigueux -sauce</i>; the <i>Perigueux sauce</i> was for the eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>. We know -that, don't we? Well, for eggs <i>à la reine</i>. At present we know how to -make eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>. To cook eggs <i>à la reine</i>, you proceed as -for eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>, and then—"</p> +sauce</i>; the <i>Perigueux sauce</i> was for the eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>. We know +that, don't we? Well, for eggs <i>à la reine</i>. At present we know how to +make eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>. To cook eggs <i>à la reine</i>, you proceed as +for eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>, and then—"</p> <p>"I don't think we'll have any, Letitia," I ventured. "Really, I believe I can do without them. Anyway, they would be rather indigestible."</p> <p>"Well, I <i>will</i> know the end," she declared pluckily. "I hate to be -beaten. We know how to make eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>. We know that, don't -we? Well, for the eggs <i>à la reine</i>, you make a garnishing of one ounce +beaten. We know how to make eggs <i>à la Meyerbeer</i>. We know that, don't +we? Well, for the eggs <i>à la reine</i>, you make a garnishing of one ounce of cooked chicken breast, one finely-shred, medium-sized truffle, and six minced mushrooms. You moisten with half a pint of good <i>Allemande sauce</i>, see No. 210. No, I won't see No. 210. You're right, Archie. -We'll do without the eggs <i>à la reine</i>. This recipe is like the House +We'll do without the eggs <i>à la reine</i>. This recipe is like the House That Jack Built, only much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> worse, for, you have to 'see' things all the time. We'll have just plain, soft-boiled eggs."</p> @@ -5828,7 +5790,7 @@ time. We'll have just plain, soft-boiled eggs."</p> Letitia, don't be vexed. There must be an art in it. We've had four cooks, all unable to boil eggs. There must be a knack."</p> -<p>Letitia sighed, and shut up the cook-book. Eggs <i>à la reine</i> seemed as +<p>Letitia sighed, and shut up the cook-book. Eggs <i>à la reine</i> seemed as difficult as trigonometry, or conic sections, or differential calculus—and much more expensive. Certainly, the eight giggling cooks in the kitchen, now at the very height of their exhilaration, worried @@ -5867,7 +5829,7 @@ rejoinder—apparently had the "gift of tongues." Letitia trembled. Rarely have I seen her so thoroughly perturbed. Yet seemingly she was unwilling to credit the testimony of her own ears, for with sudden energy, she confronted Miss Lyberg, and exclaimed imperiously, in -Swedish that was either pure or impure: "<i>Tig. Ga din väg!</i>"</p> +Swedish that was either pure or impure: "<i>Tig. Ga din väg!</i>"</p> <p>"Ah, come off!" cried the handmaiden insolently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> "I understand English. I haven't been in this country fifteen years for nothing. It's just on @@ -5956,8 +5918,8 @@ foreign countries, undergo a "sea change" the instant they landed? Why did ladies who would have clamored to black your shoes in their own country, insist that you should black theirs when they came to yours? Why was it? What did it mean? Surely it was a problem, as knotty as that -of the cooking of eggs <i>à la reine</i>. Still, undoubtedly, there are chefs -who have succeeded in elaborating the eggs <i>à la reine</i>. Were there any +of the cooking of eggs <i>à la reine</i>. Still, undoubtedly, there are chefs +who have succeeded in elaborating the eggs <i>à la reine</i>. Were there any people in this broad land, who, by dint of a life's persistence, had managed to understand their cook?</p> @@ -6069,7 +6031,7 @@ picturesque of the falsest sort of false teeth (this style ten dollars), but she was not a bit abashed. I felt perfectly convinced that she was determined to love us—that, even if we threw a vase at her, she would still consider us ineffably dear. She extended her hand to each of us—a -hand in a black <i>glacé</i> kid glove that was too long for her fingers.</p> +hand in a black <i>glacé</i> kid glove that was too long for her fingers.</p> <p>"Be seated," said Letitia, with much unnecessary dignity.</p> @@ -6098,9 +6060,9 @@ girls themselves. They come to us; we board and bed them, and we endeavor to place them with ladies whose antecedents we have diligently investigated."</p> -<p>"You have an intelligence office, then?" asked Letitia naïvely.</p> +<p>"You have an intelligence office, then?" asked Letitia naïvely.</p> -<p>"Ah, do not say it," implored Miss Perfoozle, with ten black <i>glacé</i> +<p>"Ah, do not say it," implored Miss Perfoozle, with ten black <i>glacé</i> fingers outstretched like claws. "The term has passed into such disrepute, dear Mrs. Fairfax. Naturally our society has to be supported,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> though most of the ladies comprising its members would @@ -6262,7 +6224,7 @@ feel, or should feel, that she is obtaining money under false pretenses. If she <i>can</i> cook, she is probably pleased at the notion of earning her own living."</p> -<p>"Ah, you are hard, hard!" groaned Perfoozle, wringing her <i>glacé</i> kids. +<p>"Ah, you are hard, hard!" groaned Perfoozle, wringing her <i>glacé</i> kids. "You are relentless. I am sorry I told you the story of Sybil Montmorency. But do not believe"—her commercial instinct apparently sat up and snorted—"that all my girls are similar. This case was unique, @@ -6451,7 +6413,7 @@ early. You <i>will</i> go? My dear madam, of course, we may not detain you. Will you take our best wishes to Birdie, and the child, and—"</p> <p>Miss Perfoozle's face was horrid to look at. Letitia turned from her in -dismay and whispered a husky "Don't!" in my ear. The black <i>glacé</i> hands +dismay and whispered a husky "Don't!" in my ear. The black <i>glacé</i> hands looked like claws. The representative of the Society for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Cooks in New York City resembled a Fury, baffled. We opened the door and clicked her out. For the first @@ -6483,10 +6445,10 @@ knew somebody that was acquainted with a person, who had heard of a Finnish maiden anxious for a position. It was a bit roundabout, but not worse than the simple recipes in Alessandro Filippini's cook-book. Moreover, a Finnish maiden—or any maiden—was less of a luxury and more -of a necessity than eggs <i>à la reine</i>. We therefore negotiated, with the +of a necessity than eggs <i>à la reine</i>. We therefore negotiated, with the felicitous result that one bright morning Letitia received a notification that the anxious Olga would wait upon her. We both of us -read up Finland in the encyclopædia, it being one of those obscure +read up Finland in the encyclopædia, it being one of those obscure European countries with which we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> were not familiar. Letitia thought it belonged to Scandinavia; I mixed it up with Lapland. We were able to settle the point to our mutual satisfaction before Olga arrived.</p> @@ -6632,7 +6594,7 @@ remembered it, and was quite amused. I noticed, that he watched Olga very closely—with almost embarrassing attention, but I ascribed this to his interest in her truly respectable dinner, a dinner, by-the-by, that had no premonitory menu cards. We had grown out of that sort of thing, -and out of others. Letitia no longer appeared <i>décolleté</i>, although I +and out of others. Letitia no longer appeared <i>décolleté</i>, although I still wore evening clothes.</p> <p>After dinner, when Letitia had left us to our cigars, Tamworth struck a @@ -6856,7 +6818,7 @@ arrangement left us seemed delightful. We would eat, drink and be merry, while we could. We would avoid the dreadful subject until Thursday.</p> <p>The fool's paradise bewitched us as surely as before. Tamworth faded -into the distance and the old order reëstablished itself. We enjoyed +into the distance and the old order reëstablished itself. We enjoyed ourselves in our happy little home. When Thursday came, Letitia took quite an affectionate farewell of Miss Allallami,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> and off we went to Tarrytown. Had I not reminded Letitia of her agreement, I veritably @@ -7102,7 +7064,7 @@ much more interested I am in Archibald Fairfax than in William Shakespeare. You shall read me your <i>Lives of Great Men</i> as soon as we have our cook. In the meantime, I'm so glad you have decided not to save. Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die. It is hard -to do those three things, at a seventy-five-cent <i>table-d'hôte</i>."</p> +to do those three things, at a seventy-five-cent <i>table-d'hôte</i>."</p> <p>"And the 'to-morrow we die' doesn't seem so hard?"</p> @@ -7162,7 +7124,7 @@ No sooner did a cook say "jelly" than she demanded treble wages. It seemed as though, to be luxurious, one must dote on jelly.</p> <p>"And yet," said Letitia ruefully, "I really don't care very much about -it. I'd much sooner engage a woman who understood eggs <i>à la reine</i>. +it. I'd much sooner engage a woman who understood eggs <i>à la reine</i>. Jelly seems to me so insipid. I don't suppose that we should want it once in a blue moon. All these women harp so on jellies, don't they, Archie? There must be some reason for it. I was never brought up to @@ -7217,7 +7179,7 @@ think I shall go and see Madame Hyacinthe de Lyrolle. The 'elegant pastries' capture me. I'm so sick of bread pudding and baked apples. Her name, too, is reassuring. Of course, you know—or should know—that a French cook is the most economical person on earth. It is a science with -her. What other people throw away, she makes into <i>ragoût</i>, or +her. What other people throw away, she makes into <i>ragoût</i>, or <i>croquettes</i>, or <i>blanquette</i>, and other delightful things all ending in 'ette'."</p> @@ -7542,7 +7504,7 @@ sort of pulp. She and Leonie examined it critically, positively looking for marks on it, and I should have hated to hear their comments in my absence. 'I have never served food in anything but sterling silver before,' said Madame. 'Just imagine my <i>salmi</i> of black game, in an -<i>entrée</i> dish of quadruple plate! Why, the delicacy of the flavor would +<i>entrée</i> dish of quadruple plate! Why, the delicacy of the flavor would be ruined. I'm afraid I shall not be able to achieve a <i>salmi</i>."</p> <p>I began to experience a slight symptom of Letitia's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> humiliation, as I @@ -7565,8 +7527,8 @@ the barbarous table notions of uneducated English and Americans."</p> <p>"Don't, please. It is all right now. I'm just telling you what <i>did</i> happen, so that you can sympathize with me. I've been through it all—alone. She then told me that while salt-cellars on a dinner table -were unnecessary, <i>bonbonnières</i> filled with dainty candy were rigidly -called for. When she saw our <i>bonbonnières</i>, she and Leonie turned +were unnecessary, <i>bonbonnières</i> filled with dainty candy were rigidly +called for. When she saw our <i>bonbonnières</i>, she and Leonie turned quietly aside. You remember, Archie, they were theater souvenirs that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> Aunt Julia gave us. One celebrated the one hundredth performance of <i>The Masqueraders</i>, the other the fiftieth performance of <i>The Girl With the @@ -7662,7 +7624,7 @@ comfortable for a little while, I thought it advisable to be vulgarly ostentatious on the subject of Aunt Julia. I told her that my aunt was fabulously wealthy, and hated the idea of our living so unpretentiously in New York, in a small apartment. I put it all down to you, dear. I -cooked up a story of a <i>mésalliance</i>. I had married you against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> Aunt +cooked up a story of a <i>mésalliance</i>. I had married you against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> Aunt Julia's wishes. You were poor and of rather common parentage, but I loved you, I said."</p> @@ -7780,10 +7742,10 @@ did not want to seem 'close'—and at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330 the accounts. It all seems delightful, doesn't it, dear?"</p> <p>It did, indeed, and our first dinner confirmed our sensation of -pleasure. There was no deception. We began with a <i>purée mongole</i>, and -proceeded with frogs <i>à la poulette</i>. Dainty little lamb chops, <i>à la +pleasure. There was no deception. We began with a <i>purée mongole</i>, and +proceeded with frogs <i>à la poulette</i>. Dainty little lamb chops, <i>à la maintenon</i>, roast grass plovers, a salad that was nearly poetic, and a -delicious sweet, known as cream <i>renversée</i>, made us feel almost too +delicious sweet, known as cream <i>renversée</i>, made us feel almost too nice to be at home. As for the after-dinner coffee, it was—sepia ecstasy. Perhaps we <i>were</i> fastidious; undoubtedly the dear folks who say that they revel in plain food delicately prepared in pure water, @@ -7802,7 +7764,7 @@ Letitia's chair like a Nemesis. We had to restrict our conversation to glittering generalities.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> She drank in our words, unbudgingly. Her eyes were riveted on Letitia's plate, and my wife was plied with food unceasingly. I am sorry to say that <i>I</i> had to ask for some more of the -cream <i>renversée</i>. In fact, I had to ask twice, before I got it, and +cream <i>renversée</i>. In fact, I had to ask twice, before I got it, and then it was pushed rather rudely before me.</p> <p>"It is like a dream," said Letitia purringly, when we were alone in the @@ -7831,7 +7793,7 @@ night. I dreamed that I went in the kitchen and found Madame de Lyrolle boiling Olga Allallami's twins!"</p> <p>Breakfast was so elaborate that it made me late for the office. There -were eggs, <i>à la bonne femme</i>, and porgies, <i>à la Horly</i>. Madame had +were eggs, <i>à la bonne femme</i>, and porgies, <i>à la Horly</i>. Madame had also prepared pigs' feet with <i>sauce Robert</i>, which we were obliged to refuse. In fact, most of the breakfast was left. There was enough for at least ten people, each with a healthy appetite. But, as Letitia said, @@ -7871,7 +7833,7 @@ responsible for Olga Allallami's—"</p> <p>"You know what I mean. I associate him with our first knowledge of that disaster, and—I shall hate him for ever. So don't suggest Tamworth. No," she said querulously to Leonie, who was hovering over her with -cabinet pudding, <i>à la Sadi-Carnot</i>. "I can't really eat any sweets +cabinet pudding, <i>à la Sadi-Carnot</i>. "I can't really eat any sweets to-night. I am sorry, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> the pudding looks so nice. Perhaps it will do for to-morrow."</p> @@ -8201,13 +8163,13 @@ reflect upon the intricacies of the enigma. We were, however, disillusioned. The old order of things, to which we still clung, had gone out of fashion, and we began to realize it.</p> -<p>Madame Hyacinthe de Lyrolle (<i>née</i> O'Shaughnessy) and her niece left us +<p>Madame Hyacinthe de Lyrolle (<i>née</i> O'Shaughnessy) and her niece left us next day, with the reluctant aid of the police. Their awakening was not that repentant return to the normal condition that we had confidently expected. Madame's temperament was evidently not addicted to remorse. She was inclined to be violent in the morning, and we were roused by the noise of a hand-to-hand conflict between our hired ladies, in which the -finger-nails of each seemed to play leading rôles. So I was obliged to +finger-nails of each seemed to play leading rôles. So I was obliged to telephone for a policeman, who (being named Doherty) seemed a trifle uncertain whether he had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> called in to remove Letitia and myself or the Irish Gauls. Apparently he thought that we deserved his attention @@ -8217,7 +8179,7 @@ almost <i>de trop</i>—as though we were spoiling sport or playing gooseberry. I managed to intimate to Mr. Doherty, however, that though American, I was still master in my own house. In due course, the policeman and the ladies left. In spite of the distasteful memory of -Monsieur Hyacinthe de Lyrolle, I fancy that the <i>chère</i> Madame was not +Monsieur Hyacinthe de Lyrolle, I fancy that the <i>chère</i> Madame was not utterly disgusted with the sex to which he belonged.</p> <p>The ensuing week was principally devoted to unexpected payments for @@ -8296,7 +8258,7 @@ in what my level-headed little wife said.</p> <p>"Cook is a tragedy, my girl," I admitted. "The world has had servants for centuries, and the world has progressed. Now that the end of the old -régime is at hand and the cook has turned, I can't fancy that the world +régime is at hand and the cook has turned, I can't fancy that the world will be routed. Something new will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> discovered, and cook can hang herself. The world must fight its own battles. It is up to the world, and you and I are just atoms."</p> @@ -8327,7 +8289,7 @@ dogs, impelled thither by cook!</p> colored girls and one man for the occasion. There was a whole line of carriages in the street. It was a very nice affair. Mrs. Archer received her guests in a lovely blue silk dress. There were sandwiches tied up -with ribbons, delicious <i>paté de foie gras</i>, <i>bouillon en tasse</i>, ices, +with ribbons, delicious <i>paté de foie gras</i>, <i>bouillon en tasse</i>, ices, champagne, and all the rest of it. There was music and altogether a most pleasing time. We all enjoyed it immensely. Two days later I dropped into Mrs. Archer's in the afternoon. I was dead tired—almost fainting @@ -8903,7 +8865,7 @@ as acutely as it had done.</p> <p>"These family hotels simplify things, of course," she said. "They do away with all fuss and feathers. A man takes an elegantly furnished suite, and just asks in a wife! An old lady engages a handsome apartment -and fishes up a husband to live in it with her. The <i>ménage</i> starts +and fishes up a husband to live in it with her. The <i>ménage</i> starts immediately. No furnishers, and decorators, and upholsterers, and servants are necessary. Monsieur and Madame are at home instantly. In the old days, the establishment of a home meant everything. Now it is @@ -9016,382 +8978,6 @@ cooks shall cease from troubling, and we shall be at rest.</p> <h4>THE END</h4> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wanted: A Cook, by Alan Dale - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WANTED: A COOK *** - -***** This file should be named 43983-h.htm or 43983-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/9/8/43983/ - -Produced by Annie R. McGuire. This book was produced from -scanned images of public domain material from the Google -Print archive. - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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