Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1859-02-04
EDITOR DREAMING ON WEDDING
CAKE

I EDITOR DREAMING ON WEDDING
CAKE.
! A bachelor editor out West, who had re-
ceived from the fair hand of n bride piece
Of elegant wedding cake to dream on, thus
gives the result Of his experience:
eve put it under the head of our pillow,
shut our eyes sweetly as an infant blessed
with an easy conscience, and soon snored
prodgiously. The god of dreams gently
touched us and presently in fancy we we're
married Never was a little editor so happy.
It was my love- dearest, sweetest, ring
ing in our ears every moment Oh, that the
dream had broken off here But no some
evil genius put it into the head Of our ducky
to have pudding for dinner just to please her
lord.
In a hurry dream we sat down to dinner.
WE'LL the pudding moment arrived, and a
huge slice obscured from sight the plate be-
fore us.
My dear said we fondly, did you make
this ::
Yes love; amt it nice.
'Glorious-the best bread pudding ever
tasted in my life
Plum pudding, dusky, suggested my wife.
oh. no, dearest, bread pudding. | was al
ways fond Of EN-
Call that bread pudding,' said my wife,
while her lips slightly curled with contempt.
Certainly my dear--reckon I've had e.
nough at the Sherwood House to know bread
pudding, my love, by all means
Husband this is really too bad--plum
pudding is twice as hard to make as bread
pudding, and is more expensive and great
deal better. l say this is plum pudding, sir :
and my pretty wife's brow flushed with ex-
element.
MY love, my sweet, my dear love- ex-
claimed we soothingly, do not get angry, |
am sure it's very good, if it is bread pud-
ding
You mean, low wretch fercey replied my
wife. in a higher tone, you know it's plum
pudding
Then, ma am, it is so meanly put together,
and so badly burned. that the devil himself
wouldn't know 1t. | tell you, madam, most
distinctly and emphaticaly, and | will not be
contradicted. that it is bread pudding-and
the very meanest kind, at that
1T is plum pudding, shrieked my wife, as
she hurled glass Of claret in my face, the
glass itself tapping the claret from my nose.
Bread pudding, gasped we, pluck to the
last, and grasping a roasted chicken by the
left leg.
Plum pudding rose above the din, as l
mad distinct PERCEPTION of two plates smash
ing across my head.
Bread pudding, we groaned in rage, as
the chicken left our hand, and flying with swift
wings across the table, landed in madam's
bosom.
Plum pudding, resounded the war cry
from the enemy, the gravy dish took us
where we had been depositing the first part
of our dinner, and a plate of beets landed up
on our white vest.
Bread pudding forever we shouted in de-
fance, dodging the soup tureen, and falling
beneath its contents.
Plum pudding !! yelled the amiable spouse,
as, noticing our misfortune, she determined
to keep us down by piing on our head the
dishes with no gentle hand. Then, in rapid
succession, followed the war-cries. Plum
pudding she shrieked with every dish
Bread pudding, in smothered tones came
up from the pile. Then it was plum pud-
ding, in rapid succession, the last cries grow
ing feebler and feebler-till, Just as | can re-
collect, it had grown to whisper. Plum
pudding resounded like thunder, followed by
tremendous crash, as my wife leaped upon
the pile with her delicate feet, and commenc-
ed jumping up and down-when, thank heav-
en-, we awoke-and thus saved our life. We
shall never dream on wedding cake again"