The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1863-02-25
Am Editor Dreaming on Wed
ding Cake.

Am Editor Dreaming on We'd
ding Cake.
"a bachelor editor, out West, who had
reoeived, from The fair hand of bride, a
piece of excellent wedding cake to dream
on, thus gives the result of his expert
enas:
I'VE put it under our pillow, shut our
ey4 sweetly as an infant blessed with an
easE conscience, and snored prodigiously
The god of dreams gently touched us, and
10 in fancy we were married Never
was little editor so happy. 1t was "my
love-" "dearest," "sweetest," ringing in
our ear every moment. O! 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 hungry dream, we sat down to din
ner Well, the pudding moment arrived,
and huge slice almost obscured from
sight the plate before US,
"My DEAR said we fondly, "did you
make this ?'
"Yes, my love; amt it nice p
"GIorious the best bread pudding !
ever tasted in my life
"Plum pudding ducky,' suggested my
wife.
"Oh, no, dearest; bread pudding.
was always fond of EN-"
"CalI that bread pudding" exclaimed
my wife, while her lips slightly curled
with contempt
"Certainly, my dear; reckon I've had
enough 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 is a
great deal better say this is plum pud
ding, sir p and my pletty wifs's brow
flushed with excitement.
"My love, my sweet, my dear love, .
exclaimed we, soothingly, "do not get an
grY. l am sure it is very good if it is
bread pudding.
"You mean, low wretch !" fercely re-
piled my wife, in higher tone, "you
know it's plum pudding !"
"Then. ma'am. it's so meanly put to.
gether, and SO badly burned, that the
devil himself wouldn't know it. tell
you, madam, most distinctly and emrhat,
lcally, that it is bread pudding, and the
meanest kind at that !"
at 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 Puddinev' gasped we, pluck
to the last, and grasped a roasted chicken
by the left leg.
opium Padding!" rose above the din,
as we bad distinct perception Of feeling
two plates smashed across our head.
"Bread Pudding!" we groaned in a
rage, as the chicken left our hand, and
flying with swift wings across the table,
alighted in madam's bosom.
opium PuddiDg" resounded the war
cry from the enemy, as the gravy dish
took US where We had been depositiDg
our dinner, and plate of beans landed
on our white vest
"Bread Pudding, forever p shouted we
in defiance, doging the soup turcen, and
falling beneath its contents,
"Plum pudding" vocifeiated tho amia-
bic spouse; noticing our misfortune, she
determined to keep US down by piliug up
on our head the dishes with no gentle
hand. Then, in rapid succession, fol-
lowed the war cries plum pudding y
she shrieked with every dish.
"Bread pudding" !" in smothered tones
came up from the pile in reply. Then it
was "plum pudding" il rapid succession,
the last cry growing feebler, till, just as
we can distinctly recollect, it had grown
to whisper. "Bread pudding! p re-
sounded we like thunder, followed by a
tremendous crash, as my wife leaped up,
on the pile with the delicate feet and
commenced Jumping up and down, when,
thank heaven We awoke, and thus saved
our life We shall rever dream OF wed,
ding cake again-that's the moral.