The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1892-11-23

TILL WAIT JUST TEN MINUTES LONGER"
And SO that sorrowful pair sat down
in gloomy grandeur and ate as best they
could, but it was q mirthless banquet
and soon over.
The absence of Mr.. Wardwell's friends
was the most inexplicable thing in the
world. He was renowned as the most
graceful Of hosts; his dinners were
poems; his wife was charming; his home
was marvel of comfort and conven-
fence. When the governor'sproclamation
appeared in The Gazette, announcing
that the Goth of November would be OBJ
served as Thanksgiving day. Mr.. Ward
well, after due consultation with his
wife, wrote beautifully worded letters
to his friends asking them to take din
ner with him on tho eventful day-to
use his own modest words, "Join me in
a Thanksgiving lunch in my home"
That able man, the editor of The Ga
zette, was invited. Who has not heard
of the editor of The Gazette? He it was
who wrote the stirring article entitled
"Whither Are We Drifting2" which Gre
ated CONSERVATION from ocean to ocean,
and placed the writer upon the pinnacle
Of fame at the early age Of forty. 1t
was customary with Mr.. Johns, the ed
itor, to repeat the famous editorial from
memory at dinner parties, and in his re-
ply to Mr.. Wardwell's invitation he had
explicitly stated that he would deliver it,
word for word, as it was originally writ
ten, Immediately after the dinner.
Mr.. Silver, the musician, had also
been invited. You all know about the
il1ustrious Mr.. Silver, who composed so
many delightful songs and sang them SO
irresistibly to enchanted audiences. His
picture was printed in the local papers,
and it is altogether unreasonable to sup
pose that you have not seen it. When
ever Mr.. Silver ate dinner at Mr.. Ward
wells he invariably rendered several of
his most charming selections, and he
had written Theophilus that nothing
short Of an epidemic would keep him
away on Thanksgiving day.
DIR. Shadley had also received an in
vitation, and had answered that he
would do himself the honor to be at the
appointed place promptly, adding face
tiously that his appetite would be con-
cealed about his person. The doctor
was the most interesting and amusing
story teller in the civilized world. 1t
was quite impossible to listen to one of
his anecdotes without being convulsed
with laughter, and since he had made
the Wardwell home echo with merri-
ment time and time again his absence
on this occasion was beyond all human
understanding.
Professor Smell, of the university, had
been invited as well and had remained
away, as had the others. The professor
made Mr.. Wardwells house almost his
home. It was In the little blue room
overlooking the garden that he made
those admirable translations of Horace
which have astonished the iitterateurs
of two hemispheres. His erudition was a
beautiful element Of q Wardwell din
ner; it furnished solid background for
the frothy mirth OF the doctor, and the
languishing songs of the musician, and
the brilliant sentences Of the editor
These gentlemen who have been emu
merated had been expected with then
wives, and several other gentlemen with
their wives had been expected, and con
sequently it was no wonder that The
ophilus and Rachel Wardwel1 were
| plunged in bitterness when they were
obliged to eat alone.
ut is the most humiliating day Of my
life," said Mr.. Wardwell. II can only
think Of one thing for which ! should
be thankful, and that is that my bust
ness does not take me out of the house
would be ashamed to look human