infare--but I question if they always were.
Perhaps the magic worked--and in this wise--the person dreamed of took
on so new a significance, the difference was quickly felt. But this is
a cook book--with reminiscent attachments, not a treatise on psychology.

The table held only the kickshaws--cakes, candy, nuts, syllabub and
custard. Wide handsome plates piled high with tempting sliced cake sat
up and down the length of it, with glass dishes of gay candies in
between. In cold weather wine jelly often took the place of syllabub.
There were neither napkins nor service plates--all such things came from
the side table, the plates laden with turkey, ham, fried chicken, or
broiled, and some sort of jelly or relish. One ate standing, with her
escort doing yeoman service as waiter, until her appetite was fully
appeased. Hot biscuit, hot egg bread, and light bread--salt rising,
freshly sliced--were passed about by deft black servitors. The side
tables were under charge of family friends, each specially skilled in
helping and serving. Carving, of course, had been done before hand.
Occasionally, very occasionally, where a wedding throng ran well into
the hundreds, there was barbecue in addition to other meat. In that case
it was cut up outside, and sent in upon huge platters. But it was more a
feature of infares, held commonly by daylight, than of wedding suppers.

Wedding salad is set forth in its proper chapter, but not the turkey
hash that was to some minds the best of all the good eating. It was
served for breakfast--there was always a crowd of kinfolk and faraway
friends to stay all night--sleeping on pallets all over the floors, even
those of parlor or ballroom, after they were deserted. The hash was made
from all the left-over turkey--where a dozen birds have been roasted the
leavings will be plenty. To it was added the whole array of giblets,
cooked the day before, and cut small while still warm. They made heaps
of rich gravy to add to that in the turkey pots--no real wedding ever
contented itself with cooking solely on a range. Pots, big ones, set
beside a log fire out of doors, with a little water in the bottom, and
coals underneath and on the lids, turned out turkeys beautifully
browned, tender and flavorous, to say nothing of the gravy. It set off
the hash as nothing else could--but such setting off was not badly
needed. Hash with hot biscuit, strong clear coffee, hot egg bread, and
thin-sliced ham, made a breakfast o