Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-05-06
ANOTHER IDOL SHATTERED

heHdThdD.e HlStllullOnS, THESE cunning
schools. aren't they?" said the man who
talks in the lunch room.
The other men at his table smiled know
ingly.
Pass it up" said one of them. Never
been up against graduate of one. Not
hankering, either, to
Yes stree, they certainly are extraordi-
nary outfits" interrupted the garrulous
man. Had an experience with dinner a
la cooking school yesterday evening. Well,
say, of all the --''
Don't go into details. old man." said one
of the party. Give us a chance to eat
without such a handicap a description
of a cooking school feeds bound to be.
Don't intiict any unnecessary suffering on
US"
to a cooking school dinner myself went
on the laxative man, ignoring his friend 8
pleading. But I'd heard enough about
them to be shy. Happened this way:
My Wlfe'S younger SiSter-mighty pretty
girl, at that-came on here from Philadel-
phla on visit yesterday morning. AS luck
would have it, our cooks thirty-third
cousin, or something, got sick the night
before and the cook sent us word that she
couldn't possibly report for duty yesterday
morning. My wife got the breakfast yes
teruay morning-pretty fair cook, my wife
When she has to meet an emergency-but
lack of a cook to get the dinner
OF course l can get the dinner myself'
she SAID, but it's SO provoking to have
to
Right here her sister chimed in
Please let me get the dinner today,
she said i know how to get a dinner I've
been TO cooking school all winter
MY Vile looked at me out of the SAINTS
OF her eyes, and l looked at her the same
way Neither of us wanted to say any,
thlns to wound the girls feelings, and yet
the prospect was something black.
, Maybe L can get some colored girl in
my wife.
Oh but don't do that insisted her sis
ter really can cook, you know 1 took
the full course. Just let me get the din
ner today, please
We'll. there was nothing for it. NV
wife agreed with what grace she could
muster. and just bent over nv plate and
sald nothing. But l kept up hard think
ing. "a heard about these here cooking
schools, and lumpy bread, and watery SCUM
and al that. NP'
MY wife. when she came out into the
Festlpule to bid me goodbye before L
started for the office. whispered to me that
1t couldn't be helped-that she didn't want
to make her sister fell bad bv turninp
her suggestion down-and told me that I'd
only nave to endure it once for she'd have
a cook by night. sure
anyway. you need not eat much she
Salu- You can just pretend to eat and
then you can slip out down town after
olhher ana get something you like to eat
at a restaurant
We'll, srs, the thought of that cooking
School dinner preyed me all day yes
terday so that | couldn't work | told
myself repeatedly that l was too derned
gUod-naturcd thus to offer myself as a
human sacrifice on the altar of q cooking
school dinner, and as the hour for knock
ing on work at the office drew nigh and
along with 1t the dinner hour at home l
thousht strongly of just boiling for it and
not showing up at home at all until after
dark, when ! figured the remains of that
awful dinner nd be cleared away / didn't
want to make the young woman feel bad
though, and so l gathered all my nerve and
pranced up home, prepared to do or die.
w ELL fellows, you can say what you please
about your experiences, but 1 want to tell
you right now"
Don't" interrupted one of his friends.
Just leave it to our imag!nadons. Don't
throw us any essay upon sogginess, or
that sort of thing. Suppose you wound I'D
by Kicking the table over. hey?"
You can say what you like about your
experiences and the great feeds you'v
had, pursued the narrator, but it would
just have made your mouths water even
to look at that dinner. Never enjoyed any
meal so much in my life. Absolutely per-
feet, the whole thing. In the first place, that
young woman knew how to garnish dishes
and how to dress a table-big punches of
Hlacs and wild flowers scattered around and
well, you ought to have tasted that cream
of. celery soup! 1t was enough to make Old
Sam Ward come back in the spirit. Took
three plates of 1t, and hollered for more.
Then chicken pot pie-say, you fellows
know what chicken pot pie dough gener
ally is-heavy as sinkers. and gallery and
tough? Well, say, it's a wonder this dough
didn't float right up in the air. 1t was so
light. Gravy full of little ships of green
parsley, and fluffy biscuits lighter'n a
feather. baked tomatoes like your mother
nd 90
gus with cream dressing that would set
fellow only dreams about and never eX-
poets to actually eat. corn fritters as crisp
new hundred-dolar bills and, finally,
just before the black coffee that was in
itself enough to bind a man forever to
his home and fireside, a lemon meringue
pie, about three inches thick, that tasted
of lemons the bottom crust just as fluffy
as the top one, and"
He was here interrupted by cries of de-
risiOn and contemptuOus disbelief. But his
interruptors all looked as if their teeth
were leaking" nevertheless. He stuck to
his story stoutly.
Say" finally inquired one of the doubt
ers. how long is your sister-in-law going
to be in town?"
Couple weeks" was the reply.
We'll, the only way to prove this pipe
story of yours is to ask her to cook next
Sundays dinner and invite the whole bunch
of US up" said one of the narratOr's
friends. with a Wolfish expression in his
eye, and the way they all jumped at the
invitation when it was extended was some
thing remarkable for its unanimty.