"We can sit on the boxes. Here, dad, you and Jack get the boxes up.
The boys will be here with supper in a minute or two. Oh, I say, isn't
it going to be fun? Just like a supper party in Delmonico's--only I've
never been to one there. Goodness, how I'd love to eat at
Delmonico's!"
"You wouldn't like it a bit, Ruby," announced Casey. "You got to
understand French to eat what they have there. If you can't understand
French, you're sure to eat something that won't agree with you, not
bein' able to tell soup from pickled pigs' feet."
"How do you know? You've never been there."
Casey gave her a cool stare. "I haven't, eh? My dear, I'd have you to
know that I've et there a hundred times."
Her eyes popped wide open.
"Of course," he explained, "I allus had to wake up and find I'd been
dreamin'. But, by ginger, them was great dreams. I allus had 'em after
my wife's cousin had been up to our shack of a Sunday to get a good
square meal. He was a waiter at Delmonico's. He was allus tellin' what
gorgeous things he had to eat at Del's, and then, blow me, I'd dream
about 'em the livelong night."
Presently the food came in from the cook-tent.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126