The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1866-12-19
Oh the bother of giving mon dinners;

How wish that all hungry broad-winners,
Like chameleons, cou live upon alrl
What with planning new soups and made dishes
And giving Ono's oroers to cooks
One has no time TO read what one wishes,
But must pore over cookery books.
Ere your bres kfast you've costly taken
You've lunch and dinner to scheme
And must thihk OF tired nver aud bacon
With your mouth fU 4 of coffee and cream
You We 70 think, wh1e your muffin you swallow,
Or crisp bit of dry toast you crunch,
Whether boiled fowl at dinner may follow,
After serving brOlled chicken for lunch.
Composition by punster or poet
Is rather q troublesome art;
But their labor is naught-well know it
To the toll of composing q carte.
Onl the task so OF dishes combining
Ina, one course with tho next may not clash;
hl the trouble Of daintilY dining
Without ever making hash
As for cooks, 1 declare l've no patience
Suoh wasIers such wages TO pay:
And oh! how their army relations
Make with cold meat and pickles away.
Tho Jour ear be as sharp as a lynx's,
Tho with one eye WIDE open you sleep,
You'll fud that thee impudent mIlxes
On your lRrder their cousins wi keep.
Then those horrible butchers and bakers;
How my mind with anXle fills,
As think Of those troublesome makors
Of her0RlN phlcal bl 81
those fshmongers. TOO. what trouble
lis daily their lists to look through,
And to see lest your orders they double,
And instead OF one turbot send two.
With such worries TO bore and to bother,
No wonder my spirits should fail;
Nor, last week wien caIPd on my mother,
That she thought was looking so pale.
Ger my troubles I'D IAN raw the curtain,
They are really quite dreadful to bear;
an losing my heath, thapt tor certain,
And lear too, I'm losing my hair.
At night lie wakeful tho weary,
WhIle try 80 new dainty to scheme,
Till doze of-the th me IS so dreary-
Ana then of bad dinners l dream,
VIII Augustus lies happily snoring
Pm thinking OF pu0d ngs and pies,
Or the dearness oil mutton deplOrn2,
Or lamentlng that milk too should RISE
Alas now tho season called "iestIve"
No longer IL festive to me;
In lieu OF light dances digestive,
10 largo dinners I've dai y TO see.
How sigh for relief from houseKeeping
For gallOp or wa tz no v pine!
How wish tina ones guests, before sleeping
Upon simple colo mutton would dino.
am fond of romance and light reading,
Kan& a love-tale all Others above:
.Buf, with thoughts full OF cooking and feeding,
One loses ones inGeresS In loyei
Vino can sYmpathIze deeply with LucY2
Her passion about to reveal
While one thinks " VIII the turkey be juicy2
And 1cW cook brown nicely the vealS"
Not moment now have to shop in,
And scarce know what co ior's the "go";
If by chance any !ady friends drop IN,
No light on such thing can hroy.
Then, If haplY Weld 20 TEN yta ion,
And 90 " est me new bonnet 10 see,
All the while I'm III SAD tTep0ation
Lest they keep olnDer waiInR for me.
ButlmY husband, who aves in the city
From nIne In the nom tIli near eight,
Comes ravenous homo, and no pity
Is shown TO poor me III I'm late.
He thinks L OF OF housekeeping 1urries
And the worries of curteS and OF cooks;
But raight to the tarlo he hurrIes,
And gives me the blackest OF looks.
Then IL the potatoes aren't mealy.
If the grouse ISN'T OOne to Il shade,
He grows and he lrumbles, tlll really
By his mutterS quite nervous I'm made.
he complains thar NV dutieS I'm shu king;
Suoh an iDdo ent wi o he lever knew:
That, while be like hCrse has been working,
I've really had nothing to do.
How oft, too, altho IN the morning
I've said tits a cold mutton day,
He brings home fr end without warning,
And begs that to dinner he'll say!
All vaInly broad hints keep dropping
That we've no fish or pheasant TO eat:
He insists on the poor fellows stO OpIng,
And then caIVes, with growl, tue cold meat.
Then If find fault with his carving,
Or tel how he once mangled goose,
He complains that all clrVeTs go Starving,
And suggests that we ulne q q RHSSe.
II Ia RuSse! yes, indeed, t would delight me,
If a iootman or two he'd engage:
But how fiue dIuner would irRht me,
v hen we'Ve only one poor little page
Oh if only the worry and trouble
OF composing menu men knew,
Our pn-moneY surely they'd double.
In reward for the WORK that we do.
And, to make us think deeply upon 1T,
hey some 'gOOd dinner prizes" should buy,
And present nice bracelet or bonnet
For every nice pudding or PIE.
Ali hau but the wand of fairy,
I'D summon my oeverest elves,
To teach Freddy. Arthur, and Harry
How to cook their own dinners themselves.
Were the husbands to slave in the kUchen,
Their wives might have leisure to think;
Art and science their minds would PrOw rich in,
And not merely eating and drink!