After Dinner Stories.

Lake County Press, Issue 2391, 31 August 1911, Page 7

After Dinner Stories.

i. It was winter. There Lad Loon a blizzar 1 1. The crackling wood tiro in Sieo-horluer' ■ puvate dining-room in Lafayette -place w;v , all the cosier for the snow-drifting wnu f without. Now York is blessed with ;hr." , matchless dishes—oysters, terrapin soup an • canvas-back ducks „We had done justice t, 1 | tho menu when Irving Lauded round a ho-, s ! ,i!!ecl with green cigars. And then he sug. • | gssted that wo should have the master of tfn ■’ 1 famous old restaurant in, and thank him hr 1 i the care with which he had served tho f as' ■ | and for lhe excellence at his wines Mr. ’ | Sioghortner was a gentleman, though he kepi [ : {* restaurant, and ho possessed all the finest I j instincts of tho ‘gourmet.* To him a goo i , j dinner, whether he provided it or sal as a ! guest under a friend’s mahogany, was an | event that moved him to excitement ; and ‘ I all, there was a certain tragic element ‘j * n Irving’s story that may lift it into the • | region of a 1 venturous narrative which, as a rule, will sigualiso ibis department of ’ • The j Hour.’ j ‘ A perfect dinner,’ said Irving, fondling his cigar; ‘ the canvas backs sup rb ! You are so interested in the culinary art that yon ' will, I am sure, appreciate a little experience ’ mine in connection with the groat American bird—l don’t mean the cattle, but the • luck. Sieghortner, a calm self-possessed GonnanAmerican, rubbed his hands and said : ‘ Oh, yes; ttby certainly, Mr. Irving.’ Beckoning the old gentleman to a chair, Irving looked round upon his guests, among whom was tho present narrator, and leaned back in his chair to enjoy his own story. In 1 this way Irving is the perfection of a store teller. Given a sympathetic audience, ho will elaborate the details of a story with a minute ness that brings out the very smallest p irt.iele of incident or character ; but, like audienc-'s, ho has moods, and Lis best are when Le punctuates a story sharply, and brings his denouement about wish the -us restive:; >s, ~t a broad effect. And now you will tieu'c ! am going to repeat a very wonderful a'.ory. I aai not. But I see the keen watchful no'-' of tho actor as ho scanned Sieghortuer’s f.i v, an 1 I hear his subdued laugh as l lie restaurateur spoke the tag of tho Hide drama. L An old American friend of mine,’ said Irving, ‘dead now, alas!—his name was Bateman —frequently had hampers of canvasback ducks sent to him from New York.’ ‘ Yes,’ said Seighorluer, and rubbing Ids hands—it was a way he had. ‘On ihe first occasion of this kind,’ cmtinned Irving, ‘he invited thirty true-Us sup with him at his favorite •, :üb. II.• tu.ik groat pains to instruct the chef how to coax tho famous American bints. The kit dtea was to be well heated, you know, and tire ducks carried gontiy through to the dining room.’ ‘ Yes, that's what they say,’ said Sieg- | hortuer. I ‘ Well, in duo course, the night suii", j likewise the guests, also the ducks. ‘ What tn thunder have they been doing with ibein'r’ I growled I! itcman, as ho put his fork inf., the first that was served. It was white inj stead of being brown, li ibby inslea 1 of b dug firm. I’m!' hum pul it. a-i le and tried mI other. Ji was raw: in his rage he (lung i: j under the 'able; tried another, flung that | under the table. ‘The supper was, in short, an awful I failure, unredeemed by the viands that j followed the du I “ What a calami!y !’ex laime.l f?iegh."rtner, ! no longer rubbing' Lis hands, j ‘ Indeed it was !’ raid Irving. ‘I womb i j what that fool did to spoil tlm.se ducks; 1 | have tried to find mr, bt; ii ivnrein- a | mystery.’ A y.-ar lit ! elapsed, ami tii • I subject dropped, wlreu oue day f h■ir i ■ >!’ j the chef’s sudd'U death. • Have you hoard about, poor S. ■ .red-So,’ 1 -aid, mvl'n ' Ban-man in :!;■■ .-treat, ‘V . lub ■ u ■! le .-deal.’ ‘Dead. is her’ eX'daiue d lii’eI man; ‘Tm uni ommonly glad of j• t; be cooked tl.o-e ducks over tic gas.’ ' I).ar, bar!' said, Si gl. or! trer, rising from j his chair, his fa v lie.-’:-. ! wi'h .fg-T, ‘ W'.'iv, he ought to have be, u hj in yd 1’ If. Poor Sieghortner has j ie.- lth" majority wit:; Bat- man and tie; unhappy chef, and rcc 'ally, spring round an l.iurii-h tire, Irving was i calling so. u“ of hi V in (X----p riem-es T .or Fim-tre.', lb- cui 'dl re. was the subject of conversation, ii" wi- a great friend and adrnir. r of Irving one "f the most genial and open, mind a of all the tribes of Anreriein ! let US. ‘Do you remember tho story he used to j tell?’ tl-kc.l living, ‘ that in i 1 n f of his fl■ - r j •’ngag'-m mat tic Bowery The lire in N w } Of com sc, nono of us remembered it . Not for tho world would wo have I missed living’s narration of the Florence romance. • A god of about hi-own age was a member •>! th ■ Bo -cry eu np.my,’ said, li ving. ■Sh) i 1 no c a wife and a wotivin of p .-i i >i in New Yo Tlrey wore hoy and eirl, this I actor and at i'o.sj. in those days I hoy play ■! j two pieoc-n at tho B uvory. Florence and the i young girl f >r whom he had formed a b ,\ i-h ill t.iehment had ii.iished I heir night's nick hy nine o’c'oek. Wilh a supreim effort at manly cnnfid-areo Kio once asked the girl if she would ( iko sum • r ll i>i gto eat, a lisle -at-'. I pr, at Shrell,’ ro<!rtil"-in‘-., not far Bren I ‘re tboitre. She 1 Inshinglv q aid she won’t!. , Florence proudly escorted !orto a seat, a.id I asked her wh it she would like. Oyster slew j and lemonade wastin' iu r, onginous choree ,-h * mad'. 'J Jin feast being onde 1, i’i->" n “. t. ; Ids great dismav, di-covcr d that hj • had •»*: t Itis purse at home. 1 1" expl lined lillt • ; Irish waiter, who cut him to the quick by I saying, ‘No monoy 1 Oh, that won't do. my title ft Her Ymi’ro not going do heal- | lowed le ivjuro tie- inor il ediar le.t nr of Shi" | bringing o| year pirls hero and then stvia’ i j-mu’vo forgo'.b nto h-ing your purse 1’ • How I dar • you!' . xclatiivd Florence, ahuosl hjvv-Ii- j less with in ii rna'i ui, the girl shrinking nick ( into the i■ .> a. 'l> ivii 1' ex Tiini T Murphy. ! tl.o waiter. ‘ Oli, l.edad, if you put it Ilia* ) way, Til just (rate y.>n to a pm -e of my j iii'nd ’ ; and. he did ; it was a dirtv piece too. ‘ fake me to your mi-'er,' said Florciw<». Tho girl burst, illl > tears ; poor F!o,-e:i '• Wis lietirt-brokou. T!i“ master was just as rud > to the youthful guest as his man. ' V rv well,'' said the hoy-lover, mad i'it -ham" , and iudigcia'ioii, ' here’s my w.al«h and ring ; | I will come for them in tho morning. 1 cm : a member of the Bow.ry company, and I will j ask my manager to call an 1 se“you.’ 4 Your eonduot is shameful 1 By heaven il is 1’ j exi laimcd a stranger, who had washed j tie l .mono 4 Ttis infamous !’ Then turning | to the Inn lived an 1 waiter, ho said. ‘ I ' miret j you tin ’r-r-t.'nd t.hat this gentleman is a good, honest young fellow, and the young lady I whom, by inference, you leave grossly insulted, ns highly re-p rial.!c ire-Ire is beautiful? Mr Shied!s -I beli-vc that is | your name—-you ought to apologise to the | gentleman, and kick your inpu lent waiter | into the street. Don’t scowl at me, sir; give | the young gentleman his watch and ring. j Hero is a fifty dollar hill; take what, ho owes I you and give mo tho change.’ Tho stranger | was a well dressed gentleman, with white hair and a kindly and venerable appearance. They all left the restaurant together— Florence, his pretty little sweetheart, and their j benefactor. As they stepped into tho street, I Florence said, ‘My dear sir, 1 cannot sufficiently thank you f Where shall I call and r* pay von the money you have so genetou-Iv advanced for me?’ 1 Oh, don’t troubloy ourself about it,’ sai l tho benevolent geutlemui , with the white hair and the pleasant manners, t ‘ Mr Shi ells won’t make much out of ‘he transaction - it was a counterfeit bill 1 gave him I’ —Tha Hoar.