Mr. Punch's After-Dinner Stories Part 7

Monsieur Victor de Train-de-Luxe is in many respects a delightful person. In other ways he is not. For instance, because he was, accidentally, the cause of my backing a winner at Ascot (simply by means of ordinary stable information), he had the bad taste to suggest that I should stand him a dinner.

I said, "Certainly, my dear Comte" (Comte being the courtesy t.i.tle I invariably give to foreigners from whom I have the hope of borrowing money).

"Where shall it be?"

"There is only one place where one _can_ dine," I said.

"Of course--the Bon Marche," he replied.

"No," I answered. "No, _mon ami_. If you wish to eat a really characteristic English dinner, come to the Vegetarian Restaurant in Edgware Road. Come along. Come, _now_!"

"But it's only six o'clock. I am not hungry."

"All the better," I replied. And I also pointed out to him that the best way to see London is outside an omnibus. So we started.

Arrived at the restaurant, I was enthusiastically received by the courteous cashier, who presented me with a previous bill, which, I noticed, had not been receipted. I said I thought it rather rude to present a gentleman with a bill which they hadn't taken the trouble to receipt.

We sat down.

"I'm glad," I said to Victor, "that I didn't know this dinner was coming off to-day. If I had had notice, I might have ordered it beforehand; and a dinner, to be perfection, should be eaten, if possible, on the day it is cooked. At least, that's what I always think. I may be wrong."

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.

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), 1_s._ 9_d._ Champagne, 3_d._ Total, 2_s._

To this I ought really to add:--

Cab (for three) to Marylebone Police Court, 1_s_. 6_d_. (The constable refused to walk without us.)

Loss to reputation by report of proceedings, 8_d_.

THE BUSINESS OF PLEASURE

_Professor Guzzleton_ (_to Fair Chatterbox_). Are you aware that our host has a French cook?

_Fair Chatterbox._ So I hear!

_Professor Guzzleton._ And that that French cook is the best in London?

_Fair Chatterbox._ So I believe!

_Professor Guzzleton._ Then don't you think we had better defer all further conversation till we meet again in the drawing-room?

"My uncle, the admiral," said Mrs. Ramsbotham, "is very old fashioned, and always goes to sleep every day after dinner with his banana on his head."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SYMPATHETIC

_Toast-master_ (_to chairman of public dinner_). "Would you like to propose your toast now, my lord, or should we let 'em enjoy themselves a bit longer?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: INFELICITOUS MISQUOTATIONS.--_Hostess._ "You've eaten hardly anything, Mr. Simpkins!"

_Mr. S._ "My dear lady, I've dined '_wisely, but not too well_!'"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: TRIUMPHS OF THE FUNNY MAN

_Hired Waiter_ (_handing the liqueurs_). "_Please_, sir, _don't_ make me laugh--I shall spill 'em all!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: OVERHEARD AT A CITY RESTAURANT

"I said Welsh _radish_, not _horse rabbit_!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: IRRESISTIBLE

_Our Robert_ (_on duty in the provinces, offering dish to neglected spinster_). "Little duck!"

[_In such a tone of voice, that, at the risk of the sage and----she accepts!_]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Host._ "I say, my boy, shall we join ladies in drawing-room?"

_Guest._ "I sh'inksho."