“ The moulin à vent was delicious, but the dindon décousu I could not pass. No self-respecting gourmet will pass everything at a dinner.
Gontran, the kindly maître d'hôtel, was almost in tears, but I consoled him by observing that the ostriches were cooked to a turn, and the bombe glacée à l'anarchiste faultless.
But my hostess? Where was she? Where was Mademoiselle Faustine? I had quite forgotten her! I beckoned to Hagenbock, the press representative of the restaurant, who informed me she had been dead eight months! ”

“ Private dinner parties, public banquets, the solitary dinner at the restaurant, the giving and accepting of invitations, these and many other phases of dining come within its scope, and if it be noticed that a considerable amount of its humour has something of the fragrance of good old port—to say nothing of the aroma of wines that are [Pg 6] bad!—it can only be retorted that Mr. Punch's duty has ever been to mirror the manners of the changing time, and in his early days the wine flowed more freely than it does to-day. ”

“ I am told that the Concentrated Food Stores will shortly be able to place on the market a series of graduated wafers, each containing a complete dinner, from a City banquet to a cutlet, at prices to correspond with the number of courses required.
Hostess. Delightful! And then the most expensive dinners will be all over in a minute, instead of dragging on to ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, as I've known them to do sometimes! I've often thought what a pity it is that we waste so much precious time as we do in merely supplying our bodily wants. ”

“ A dinner's the best thing under the sun,
And its gold coin the after-dinner speeches.
And as to the House, which often suffers
From talk that to dreariest platitude reaches,
It does not often allow its duffers
To make long after-dinner speeches.
[Pg 94]
SCENE—CHOP-HOUSE
Enter Street Boy, and, with suppressed ecstasy. "Oh, please, there's your cat and kittens having such a game with the things in the winder!"
At the Cric-Crac Restaurant
Customer (looking at bill) . Here, waiter, there's surely some mistake in this total.
Waiter (politely) . Zehn thousand pardons, sir! ”

“ A LITTLE DINNER OF THE FUTURE
A Forecast by Mr. Punch's Own Clairvoyant
According to the Daily Chronicle, "an American professor is looking forward to the time when cooking and dining shall become lost arts, and we shall take our sustenance in the form of tablets of concentrated things." Our esteemed contemporary appears to think that such a system would necessarily do away with all conviviality and social intercourse; but, unless Mr. Punch's clairvoyant is liable to error (which is absurd) , we need not take quite so gloomy a view of the future. ”

“ It is a wise waltzer who knows her own step.
A dinner in time saves nine.
When the confectioner comes in by the door the cook flies out by the window.
What is port to your wine merchant is death to your guests.
Keep your champagne dry.
Call a stable-boy by any other name, and he [Pg 58] will resemble the rose under similar circumstances.
You can't make a head butler out of a local greengrocer.
When the soup is cold, the wit flies out.
If you have enough cheap and nasty dishes, some of them must be eaten. ”

“ Awful Warning!—Guest (at City Company dinner) . "I'm uncommonly hungry!"
Ancient Liveryman (with feeling) . "Take care, my dear sir, for goodness' sake, take care! D' you know it happened to me at the last Lord Mayor's dinner to burn my tongue with my first spoonful of clear turtle; 'consequence was— (sighs) —'couldn't taste at all—anything—for the rest of the evening!!"
[Pg 174]
It is quite possible to have too much of a good thing—as for example, when you get the asparagus shot over your favourite dress-coat with the silk facings. ”

“ I can generally manage a couple of eggs, two sausages, or kidneys, some Dundee marmalade, and two cups of coffee for breakfast. I always have a little luncheon, any amount of roast beef or mutton for dinner, and I generally look in at the confectioner's in the afternoon, and invariably wind up with a good supper. ”

“ Monsieur de Train-de-Luxe smiled, said I was a farceur, and I ordered our dinner.
First, some turnip turtle soup, then, ortolans of spinach and mashed potatoes, followed by a canvas-backed duck made of Indian corn, and last, not least, plum-pudding. As all will agree, this makes a very delicious and seasonable repast. Long dinners have quite gone out of fashion. And this was washed down with a sparkling bottle of orange champagne, '97. ”

“ People will still entertain, only the dinner of the next century will be a more economical and less tedious function, and, instead of having to go through a trying interview with her cook, the coming hostess will merely look in at the nearest food chemist's, when some such conversation as the following will settle the whole business.
Hostess. We've some people coming in to take a few tablets with us this evening; what do you think I'd better have?
The Food Chemist. You will require soup, of course, madam. ”

“ When the ladies retire from the dinner-table, it is not usual for you (supposing you to be a gentleman) to retire with them. In this instance, the same law extends to the mistress as to the servants:—"No Followers Allowed." ”

“ Customer (indignantly) . Hi! waiter, what do you call this soup?
Waiter (meekly) . I not know, sir, but ze padrone tell me to describe 'im cocks-tail!
"The Coming Man."—A waiter.
[Pg 17]
So very Conscientious!—Master of the House. "Why, Jenkins, what on earth is the matter with you? Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
Butler (with great deliberation) , "Well, shir—if you pleashe, shir—itsh not quite my fault. You told me to taste every bottle of wine before dinner, in cashe one should be corked. I've only carried out in-shtrucshuns."
[Pg 18]
THE VERB TO DINE Present Tense
I dine. ”

“ In provincial society the lord-lieutenant is king.
Flirtation is the mother of invention.
All good dances lead to the conservatory.
Take care of the rounds, and the squares will look after themselves. ”

“ During the Cattle Show.—Old Farmer Wuzzle (reading the bill of fare) . "Dinners har lar cart! What does that mean, Polly?" Miss Wuzzle (who has been to a fashionable boarding-school to be finished, who has been taught French and how "to spank the grand pianner" and who is never at a loss) . "Aller cart, father? Why, that means a small, simple dinner. If you want something heavy and first-rate, you order what they call a dinner waggon!"
[Pg 126]
"March of Refinement," 1875.—Brown (behind the age, but hungry) . "Give me the bill of fare, waiter." ”

“ My friend Victor, who is rather a gourmet, was so struck with the first mouthful of soup, that he said it was quite enough, observing, he had never tasted anything like it.
Pleased with this praise, I asked his opinion of the ortolans. He said that their aroma dispensed with the necessity for their consumption. He was evidently surprised.
When the bill was presented by the courteous "chucker-out," we found that most unluckily neither of us had any money.
I append the bill.
Dinners (for two) , 1s. 9d. Champagne, 3d. Total, 2s. ”

“ After-Dinner Consideration.—"Hippopotamuses" is a better test-word of fitness for joining the ladies than "British Constitution."
[Pg 19]
DISCUSSING AN ABSENT FRIEND
"Yes, Robinson's a clever feller, and he's a modest feller, and he's a honest feller; but, betwixt you and I and the post, Mr. Jones," said Brown, confidentially, picking his wisdom tooth with his little finger nail, "Robinson ain't got neither the looks, nor yet the language, nor yet the manners of a gentleman!"
"Right you are, sir!" ”

“ Let me see—you may send me in a couple of ounces of acidulated champagne drops—the Australian quality, not the French, they're twopence an ounce dearer, and so few people notice the difference nowadays, do they?
The F. C. (to himself) . Not until the next morning! (Aloud.) And liqueurs? Any brandy-balls with the coffee creams? We have some very fine essence-of-dessert jellies——. Hostess Nothing more, thank you. (To herself as she departs.) I'm sure I've spent quite enough as it is on John's stingy old relations, who never ask us to have so much as a lunch-lozenge or a tea-tabloid with them! ”

“ THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID
Jones (to hostess, famous for her dinners) . "Oh, by the way, Mrs. Hodgkinson, if you should happen to want a really good cook, I know of one who would suit you to a T!"
[Pg 43]
THE RULING PASSION STRONG AT DINNER
Laconic Waiter (thoroughly familiar with sporting Major's taste in champagne) . "Seventy-four, sir?"
Sporting Major (down on his luck, after a bad week at Newmarket) . "Seven-to-four, sir! Dash it! wouldn't take ten to one about anything!" ”

“ Q. How are the visitors to be treated?
A. With fulsome eulogy or comic depreciation inspired by the pages of that excellent manual, Who's Who. Particular attention can be paid to the entries under "Recreations" in that admirable work, for appropriate chaff.
Q. And in what terms does a chairman respond to the toast of his own health?
A. In a few muttered words addressed to an audience composed of a gentleman fast asleep, the toast-master, and the waiters.
[Pg 103]
Social Agonies.—"I say, old chap, it's short notice, but do come and dine this next Thursday!" ”

“ She. "Awfully!"
He. "Do you know I always think there's something wanting in people who don't play?"
[Pg 188]
Old Party (very naturally excited) . "Why, confound you! You are wiping my plate with your handkerchief!"
Waiter (blandly) . "It's of no consequence, sir—it's only a dirty one!"
[Pg 189]
IN DESPERATE STRAITS
Jones (blue ribbon—to abstemious lady he has taken in to dinner) . "Look here, madam, we don't seem to be getting on a bit! Either you must have a glass of champagne, or, by Jove, I must!!" ”

“ Of claret, hock, champagne or sherry.
And therefore, Damon, you and I,
Who fain would live a year at least,
Reluctantly must modify
The scope of our projected feast;
A charcoal biscuit we will share,
Water (distilled, of course,) we'll swallow,
Since this appears the only fare
On which destruction will not follow!
[Pg 141]
SMALL SOCIAL AGONIES
Hostess. "It's but a poor lunch I can give you! But my cook has got influenza!"
Enfant terrible. "Oh, mummy, you always say that!"
[Pg 143]
Quite A Novelty.—Amiable Experimentalist. ”

“ Mrs. Smart (cheerfully) . "Please go on thinking, Mr. Hopkins,—and I'll go on talking to Professor Brayne in the meantime.
[Pg 65]
Past and Present.—Serious and much-married man. "My dear friend, I was astonished to hear of your dining at Madame Troisétoiles!—a 'woman with a past' you know!"
The Friend (bachelor "unattached") . "Well, you see, old man, she got a first-rate chef, so it isn't her 'past,' but her 're-past' that I care about."
[Pg 67]
A Connoisseur.—Sir Pompey Bedell. "This bottle of Romanée-conti seems rather cloudy, Brown! It ought to be all right. ”

“ This is the fourth time you've woke me up, sir!"
Juvenile. "Oh! Just put a few coals on the fire, and pass the wine, that's a good old chap."
Nurseriana.—Little Chris. "Oh! mamma, mamma, baby's moulted again."
Mamma. "Moulted! What do you mean?"
Little Chris. "Why, he's just dropped another tooth!"
[Pg 183]
SAFEST WAY OF TAKING A LADY DOWN TO DINNER
(Another reminiscence of the days of the crinoline)
[Pg 184]
SAT UPON
Hospitable Host. "Does any gentleman say pudden?"
Precise Guest. "No, sir. No gentleman says pudden."
[Pg 185]
Unexpected Gratuity.—Waiter. ”

“ Mrs. Jinks. "Yes; but they make one so unreserved!"
[Pg 97]
A BORN ORATOR (IN THE EAST)
Farmer (proposing landlord's health) . "An' if a' squiears 'ud dew as our squiear dew, there wudna be so many on 'em as dew as they dew dew!"
[Pg 98]
No Excuse for not Believing.—"Then you don't believe in phrenology?" ”

“ Old Gent (grandly) . "Oh dear no—not at all, not at all! I never give less!"
[Pg 186]
Hickling (to friend, who finds some difficulty in keeping his cigar alight) . "I say, old man, what matches do you smoke?"
[Pg 187]
He. ”